Jimmie Moore of Bucktown Part 10

"I'll bet Bill'll be drunk when he gits his money," said Mrs.

Kinney. "You git her mad and she'll swear like she always did.

Where der yer suppose she got that hat she's wearin'? When I ast her she said the Lord give it to 'er, and she says she's goin' ter have a carpet and curtains. I wish Bill would git drunk and just teach her a good lesson. She's gittin' too smart.

She'll quit speakin' to us next thing we know, and that Floe that Mrs. Morton took home with her, I'll bet she'll be a bad girl agin. If I don't miss my guess, they'll be sorry they ever saw Bucktown."

Even the children would stand and look at Bill when he pa.s.sed by on the street. Morton had gone with him to his old employer and told him how he was saved, and he gave Bill back his old place in the shop. He worked ten hours each day and went to the Mission every night.

Jimmie was getting on well with is studies under Mrs. Price.

She gave him an hour each morning and he worked hard to get his lessons. On Sat.u.r.day morning he rushed into Morton's office very much excited. "What's the matter, Jimmie?" said Morton.

"Matter? Matter 'nough, I guess. What yer been steerin' me up against? I was jus' gittin' my lesson up at Price's and her man comes home. He's a travelin' man and gits home once a month.

He stood lookin' at me and, pointin' his finger at me, says, says he, 'What's dis?' His woman says, says she, 'Dat's Jimmie Moore and I'm teachin' him ter read and write. He's one of der Sunday school boys at der Mission.' 'I don't want no such cattle in my house,' he said ter his woman. 'He's covered wid vermum (er somfin like dat) and'll steal yer blind when yer ain't lookin',' and said he wa'n't runnin' no mission, and 'f I didn't git he'd sling me out der winder."

"Well, what did you do, Jimmie?" asked Morton.

"Do? I ducks out, and ducks out fast is what I do. Did yer ever see him? He's one of them tall, skinny guys and he's got er high shiny hat dat makes him taller and skinnier. He'd go fer a lead pencil at der masquerade in Bucktown, if he had a rubber on his head. Den his overcoat is so big dat he's got a belly-band b.u.t.toned on behind it ter make it littler. Gee, he looked like er rat-tail in er quart cup. I wouldn't care so much, but I left my book dere, and I'm scart ter go after it."

"Did you say anything to him, Jimmie?" asked Morton.

"Not on yer life, I didn't have time; he came near beatin' me to der door as it was."

"Well, never mind, Jimmie. It may be all right. I will get your book for you and you will learn to read and write yet," said Morton kindly. "Romans 8:28 says that 'all things work together for good to them that love G.o.d.'"

While Jimmie's experience with Price was hard for one so sensitive, before the day ended he was very glad it had happened as it did.

As Mr. and Mrs. Price started for down-town that evening to do some shopping, Mrs. Price took Jimmie's book with her. When they reached Brady Street, where the Mission is located, she turned suddenly to Mr. Price and said, "I have that boy's book with me and I want to take it to him at the Mission. Please walk down with me; it is rather rough on Sat.u.r.day night and I am timid alone." For what followed, hear Mr. Price's own words as he stood up to speak in the Mission at the end of the service.

"If any one had told me this morning that I would be in a place like this to-night, I would have considered that person insane.

It was all a mistake on my part, but I thank G.o.d for the mistake.

For years I have been a traveling man. To hold my trade and be a good fellow I have always treated my customers right. In this way I got into the habit of drinking. Never got drunk very often at first, but the habit kept growing until it has been the other way--never got sober very often. Ten days ago, in another city, fifteen of us boys met at the supper table in the hotel and one of them bet the drinks for the crowd with another one. I do not know what the bet was about, but after supper we all adjourned to the barroom to drink with the loser.

Before we stopped we had all treated and every one was ready for anything. To make a long story short, we have all been drunk for ten days. I reached home this morning without money; I left my hotel bill unpaid. My firm does not know where I am. When I went into the house my wife had company, and I was mad in a minute. I tried to kick a boy out of doors that she was teaching to read. I have not spoken a pleasant word all day. To-night my wife asked me to come to this place with her, as she had a book she wanted to deliver to that boy. He was nowhere to be seen, so I sat down with her in the back part of the building to wait for him. Two large women came in and we moved in against the wall to make room for them. I became very nervous and wanted to get out, but I couldn't get past those women. I was angry enough at my wife to choke her, but she sat there and sung those old songs and never once looked at me. When my eye caught sight of the motto there, 'How long since you wrote Mother?' I almost fell from my chair. Listen, fellows; I had as good a mother as G.o.d ever gave a boy. I had promised her many times that I would not take another drink, but never could keep my word.

One day when I was in a barroom, I received a telegram from my wife which read, 'Come at once. Mother is dead.' When I reached home they told me that the last conscious words were a prayer for her boy. I had promised her to meet her in Heaven, but I've gone lower and lower since her death. I thank G.o.d for that boy; I thank G.o.d for those words on the wall and for Mr. Morton's invitation to come to Mother's G.o.d. Since I came to this altar, Jesus has saved me and I mean to live for Him and meet Mother over there."

As he sat down there was scarcely a dry eye in the house. Jimmie went up to him and put his hand on his arm and said, "I was sore at yer ter-day, but I love yer now, Mr. Price." Price took the boy in his arms and hugged him. "I love you, my boy, and will always be your friend. You will always find my home open to you."

CHAPTER XI

_The Meeting in the Market_

The first day that was warm enough for people to stand outside and listen, Mr. Morton had his big, white stallions. .h.i.tched to the gospel wagon, which was also white. The team had wintered well and weighed 3400 pounds. As they stood champing their bits outside of the Mission, Jimmie watched them for a few minutes and then, turning to Morton, said, "Please, kin I go erlong, Mr. Morton?"

"Where shall we go, Jimmie? We want to have about three meetings this afternoon if the weather stays warm, as it is now."

"Have all t'ree of 'em in Bucktown," said Jimmie. "I bet I kin git Dave Beach ter come over ter the corner ter see dem dere horses, and I'll bet f.a.gin and Mike'll come over ter hear Bill Cook make his speel, and say, come here er minute." Jimmie took Morton off to one side, away from every one, and whispered into his ear: "If you'll git Floe ter go down there an' sing dat dere song erbout 'Tellin' yer Ma I'll be dere' [Tell Mother I'll be There], it'll git der whole bunch out to der meetin'."

"Floe is not very strong, Jimmie, and I hardly think she would care to sing in the open air."

"If she'll do et, will yer let her?"

"Oh, yes, if she cares to go I will be glad to take her with us on the wagon. You must not tell her I wanted you to ask her, Jimmie," said Mr. Morton as the boy started on a run to ask Floe to sing.

"She'll be dere by der time der wagon is," said Jimmie, all out of breath, "an' I'm goin' down now ter tell der gang you're comin'."

Before the second song had been sung at least two hundred people stood before the gospel wagon at the corner of the Market. All ages, sizes, colors, kinds, some drunk, some under the influence of morphine and opium, and some Greeks and Russians who could not understand one word of the English language. On the edge of the crowd were three or four girls from the Dolly resort, and as many more from other houses of this same type near by.

Oily Ike, Fred Hood and Jewey were there; but f.a.gin, Mike, Dave Beach and Jimmie were nowhere to be seen. When the male quartet arose to sing, every one became very quiet and listened attentively to the singing.

Morton read the first Psalm and then told the crowd just why they were there. "We are here to tell you about the Lord Jesus Christ and His power to save; because we know that every one of you needs Him," said Morton.

This cla.s.s of people can never be "fooled," and one endeavoring to help them in a spiritual way must be very frank and honest, and never, never use "nice" words or sayings to catch them.

They are very suspicious of everybody and when any one attempts to win them to his way of thinking he must do it in a straightforward, honest manner. Do not call them "dear friends" or "dear brothers and sisters"; do not tell them that they are all good people, as they at once begin to look for a collection box or expect you to have something to sell. They say, "He's either a fool or thinks I'm one."

"The City Rescue Mission stands for the old Gospel of Christ, to save from sin," Morton continued. "And on this wagon to-day are those who were once far in sin, but who are now happy in Him. Every one here knows Mr. Cook. He is your neighbor and I believe your friend. You all knew him in his old life and most of you know how G.o.d has kept him these past weeks. I know that you will all want to hear from him, and after he speaks to you I shall ask a lady to sing. She will sing, by request, 'Tell Mother I'll be There.' I take great pleasure in introducing to you Mr. William Cook."

"What's the matter with Bill?" yelled a voice.

"He's all right!" came from nearly every throat as Bill stood up to speak.

Jimmie stepped from the side entrance of f.a.gin's saloon and was quickly followed by Mike, f.a.gin, Dave Beach and Gene Dibble.

Bill started to speak just as they lined up in front of him, and he became so nervous he could scarcely stand up, much less say anything. f.a.gin was quick to notice his embarra.s.sment and laughed a rough Ha! Ha!

"Cut that out, f.a.gin!" said Dave, stepping up to him.

The look in Dave's eyes told f.a.gin that he meant all he said.

"Go on, Bill, you're a winner," he said. "We want to hear you speak."

"Well, fellows, yer know that this is a new one on me. I've never been up against this gospel wagon game before in my life.

My trainin' has been along other lines. I can't make no speech, but I can tell yer this, that fer six weeks I ain't wanted no booze and I've been workin' most of the time and got money in my pocket to buy booze if I wanted it. See?"

"Good boy, Bill," yelled Dave. "You're getting your second wind; all you need is a little more weight forward and jogged every morning in hopples for about ten days and you've got 'em all skinned in your cla.s.s."

"Go on, Bill," said Jimmie, "tell 'em what yer told 'em in der Mission last night."

"It's this way," said Bill, great drops of perspiration standing on his forehead. "It's this way. In the army I learned to drink.

After I came home I took up my old trade and have always worked when I could keep sober. Since I have lived in this part of town I've been drunk more than I have been at work. Every time it happened, I'd swear that it would never happen again, but I'd go and git it before I'd git my breakfast. I tried to stop, but couldn't handle myself at all. Every one round here knows how my family suffered. I could make enough ter keep 'em good, but I'd spent it fer likker. My wife has took in washin' to keep the kids from starvin' and freezin'. She had to work all night, more'n one night, and when Freddie died--Oh, my G.o.d!

I wish I could forgit that! When Freddie died--I was drunk.

Just before he pa.s.sed away I promised him I'd never drink another drop, but I went out and got into the delirium tremens before I stopped. When I came to myself I found that my wife had sold everything in the house but the stove, table, a few chairs and one bed to pay the funeral expenses. You can call it fun, if yer want to, but I tell you it's h.e.l.l on earth. Most of you know what's happened lately. When my old pal, Bob Moore, died, I was in bad shape; but I never got away from what G.o.d did fer him before he died. When I got out of bed, Jimmie took me to the Mission and Jesus saved me the first night I went there.

My wife was saved the night before, and I tell you we're havin'

different times at our house nowadays. We had chicken fer dinner to-day and we've had meat once a day fer two weeks. I've eat garlic sausage and rye bread on the free lunch counter fer thirty years, but now I'm eatin' chicken and givin' the old lady and kids a chance ter eat too."

When he sat down some tried to clap their hands, but the crowd did not feel that way. Every one knew that Bill had told the truth and they were touched with the earnest way in which he told his simple, straightforward story.

"Now, while you are quiet, I will ask our friend to sing for us," said Morton. "Please come to the wagon, sister," he said to Floe.

As she stepped upon the wagon every eye was upon her. She was dressed in a dark tailor-made suit, very plain but neat. Mr.

Worden at the organ started to play softly. Floe walked to the front of the wagon and looked down into the faces of many she knew. Her large black eyes beamed with love for them all. She was very pale, but calm, and as she stood there she looked like a queen.