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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 06:47:57 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 06:47:57 -0800 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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- padding-left: 2em; -} - -td.pag a { - /* color: black; */ - font-weight: bold; - text-decoration: none; -} - -.pagenum { /* page numbers */ - visibility: hidden; - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -p.quotsig { /* author signature at end of letter */ - text-align: right; - font-style: italic; -} - -/* text formatting */ - -.center {text-align: center;} -.upper-case {text-transform: uppercase;} - -.gesperrt -{ - letter-spacing: 0.1em; - margin-right: -0.1em; -} - -em.gesperrt -{ - font-style: normal; -} - -/* Images */ - -img {max-width: 100%; height: auto;} - -.figcenter { - margin: 1em auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.caption p -{ - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; - margin: 0.25em 0; -} - -/* Drop Capitals */ - -img.drop-cap -{ - float: left; - margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; -} - -p.drop-cap:first-letter -{ - color: transparent; - visibility: hidden; - margin-left: -0.9em; -} - -p.drop-cap-simple { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -p.drop-cap-simple:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em; - font-size: 300%; - line-height:0.85em; -} - - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container - { - text-align: center; - margin: -1em 0; - } - -.poetry - { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; - } - -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - -.poetry .verse - { - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; - } - -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: .5em;} -.poetry .indent6 {text-indent: 1.5em;} - - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -/* ePub stylings */ - -.break-before { page-break-before: always; } -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.title-page -{ - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -@media screen -{ - .half-title - { - margin: 6em 0; - } -} - -@media handheld -{ - body - { - margin: 0; - padding: 0; - width: 95%; - } - - .poetry - { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; - } - - .half-title - { - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; - margin: 0; - padding-top: 6em; - } - - img.drop-cap - { - display: none; - } - - img.covers - { - display: none; - } - - p.drop-cap:first-letter - { - color: inherit; - visibility: visible; - margin-left: 0; - } - .upper-case {text-transform: none;} -} - -@media print -{ - .half-title - { - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; - margin: 0; - padding-top: 6em; - } -} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Monks of Vagabondia, by Andress Floyd - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: My Monks of Vagabondia - -Author: Andress Floyd - -Release Date: January 22, 2016 [EBook #51004] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MONKS OF VAGABONDIA *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Christopher Wright and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter covers"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center half-title">“And this is liberty—that one grow after the -law of his own life, hindering not another.”</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="Title Page" /> -</div> - -<div class="title-page"> - <h1><em>My Monks - of Vagabondia.</em></h1> - - <p class="ph2"><em>Andress Floyd</em></p> - - <p class="ph4"> - Copyright 1913<br /> - By Andress Floyd</p> - - <hr class="full" /> -</div> - -<div class="nobreak"> - <p class="ph4 mt2"> - TO MY WIFE<br /> - LILLIAN BLANCHE FLOYD<br /> - WHOSE DEVOTION AND INSPIRATION<br /> - MADE POSSIBLE<br /> - THE SELF MASTER COLONY - </p> - - <hr class="full" /> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>Introductory</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="drop-cap-simple"><span class="upper-case">My Monks of Vagabondia</span> comprises -Fact-stories selected from the old files of -the Self Master Magazine. I wish to present the -defeated man, as he really is, to the reader who -cannot fail to appreciate the humor and tragedy -that makes up his wayward life. The bond of -sympathy should be awakened between us and -the so-called prodigal.</p> - -<p>A wider publicity should be given to the unique -but practical uplift work that I have founded and -carried on for the past five years among these -weaker brothers.</p> - -<p>The stories explain in part the methods and -plans of the Family of Self Masters.</p> - -<p>It is—we believe—the only book in which -a writer has received his facts for his stories -direct from a life-experience with outcast men.</p> - -<p>Not alone that, but the volume is printed, bound -and illustrated by the unexpected guests—the -Itinerant Monks of whom the tales are told, and -who make their home in our so-called Monastery.</p> - -<p>The day approaches when broken men shall -have beautiful, though simple, homes of their own -making, modeled after the group idea of The Self -Master Colony. They will be established outside of -the different cities of the world, and opened hospitably -to all men who come in their hour of need -or weakness, seeking Self Mastery and the peace -that accompanies it.</p> - -<p>The proceeds from the sale of these stories go -toward the purchase and installation of much -needed equipment for the Printshop and Bindery. -With this equipment the men can work out their -own independence, industrially and socially.</p> - -<p>When a man has lived months and years enslaved -by some vicious habit—self-destructive -and careless of consequences—his sub-conscious -mind is a sensitive matrix on which the sordid -history is deeply engraved. The certain change -can come only as the man learns values and -respects them by a right life.</p> - -<p>The sub-conscious self takes on a complete reformation -slowly. An evil habit does not gain mastery -over the man upon the instant nor once in control -is its grip broken by any feeble affirmation -or miraculous phenomenon.</p> - -<p>The hope comes when one turns one’s thought -from the destructive to the constructive, and lives -in the sight of the new born faith until wisdom -lifts the darkened veil and freedom follows as its -rightful legacy.</p> - -<p>The Self Master Colony offers an open door to -the disheartened man during the period of his -awakening to his real strength and helps him -with its constant care and sympathy back to his -true self.</p> - -<p class="quotsig"> -ANDRESS FLOYD.<br /> -</p> - - <hr class="full" /> - -<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <th colspan="2">CONTENTS</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="cht">Introductory</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">A Journey to our Monastery</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Mary and the Baby</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">My Problem with Slippery Jim.</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Our Friend, The Anarchist</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">A Bashful Beggar</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Fritz and His Sun Dial</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">The Waiter Who Did Not Wait.</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Compounding a Felony</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">The Passing of Sullivan</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">When Sister Called</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">Edison’s Evening Star</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">In the World of Wanderlust</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht">The Two Jeans</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>A JOURNEY TO OUR MONASTERY</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_018.jpg" alt="Decorative detail" /> - </div> - <p>If any pilgrim monk come from distant - parts to dwell with us, and will be content - with the customs which he finds in the place, - and do not perchance by his lavishness disturb - the Monastery, he shall be received.</p> - - <p class="quotsig"> - —<cite>Saint Benedict.</cite> - </p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="ph2">A Journey to our Monastery</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_t_019.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> man had walked the -entire distance from New -York to the Self Master -Family. In truth, he had -walked more than the entire -distance, for once or -twice he had lost his way—as -many a man has done -in other walks of Life. -Painfully he had retraced his steps to the right -road. The mistakes had told heavily upon his failing -strength. They had made him just that much -more weary with it all. No doubt mistakes are -wonderfully educational; they make men wiser, -and therefore better, for in the final analysis wisdom -and goodness are synonymous.</p> - -<p>He complained bitterly at the hardness of his -lot and found little comfort in the thought that he -might reach the Colony too late for the evening -meal.</p> - -<p>His friend who had met him walking aimlessly -up and down Broadway assured him that there -was always a coffee pot boiling on the old-fashioned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -cook stove in the boys’ kitchen—that the Colony -House never locked its doors.</p> - -<p>To a man who feels that every door in the -world is locked against him there is comfort in -the thought that there is really one place where he -may find a welcome. His friend had said that -there would be no questions asked him on his -arrival—no investigation.</p> - -<p>“No investigation,” he muttered aloud, “thank -God! It is easier for a camel to pass through the -eye of a needle than it is for a ‘down-and-out’ -man to convince Professional Charity that he is -really hungry. I think they would have given me -a ‘hand-out’ when they investigated me the last -time if I could have told them what town my -mother was born in.”</p> - -<p>He smiled with weak cynicism at the folly of -his thoughts, and then became suddenly serious, -for on the side hill in front of a large colonial -house, worked out in white stone, were the words -“The Self Masters.” He stopped and studied the -quiet, home-like scene from the road. All these -weary miles he had come to ask food and shelter, -and now his courage seemed to fail him. He sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -down by the road side and leisurely took his pipe -from his pocket. Then he prepared tobacco with -the utmost care, filled the pipe and lighted it.</p> - -<p> -“THE SELF MASTERS”<br /> -</p> - -<p>he spelled out the letters on the sign; “What the -h—ll is that?—Self Master—Self Mastery—Self -Control. Old Man, if you had ever had any -of that Self Control in your make-up you would -not be a Knight of the Dusty Road!... You -had better go back to the East Side where you -know the land; where no man cares whether you -live decently or not—if you can buy.”</p> - -<p>Then the sound of a piano and male voices -came to him and awakened him to a new train of -thought. “It is a Monastery—a Monastery of -Vagabondia,” he said, "and why not? why shouldn’t -a man, even a homeless man, have his Monastery, -if you please, where he can forget his past and -live cleanly? If he only lives cleanly for a day -and falls.... It’s something to remember—a -day he doesn’t have to be ashamed of. Who -knows but that in the one day of unselfish living -a man is more truly his real self than he is in all -the other days of his vicious years.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Throughout his long life Moses was the leader -of his people, but it was in that day that he talked -with God—face to face—that his countenance -did shine like the sun. It was not when he slew -the Egyptian, and, frightened, buried him in the -sand; it was when he stood in the presence of -Divinity—that Moses was Moses. When the -drunkard is in his sober mind, when the liar is -speaking the truth, when the thief is giving honest -measure, when the murderer is kind to his fellow, -then, and only then, is the true Self finding expression.”</p> - -<p>He drew heavily at his pipe and then smilingly -said, “My pipe has gone out!” He knocked out -the ashes into his hand and scattered them to the -wind, gravely, as if it were some religious ceremony. -Then he dusted his shoes and clothes, -and straightening himself up to his full height, he -marched bravely up to the front door of the -house....</p> - -<p>... A black crow, belated in his home-going, -left his corn-thieving, and, rising, flew across the -sky to his eyrie in the pines.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_023.jpg" alt="Black crow in field" /> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>MARY AND THE BABY</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“And a little child shall lead them.”</p> - - <p class="quotsig"> - —Isaiah. - </p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">Mary and the Baby</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_r_027.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Resolved</span>, that old fashioned cow’s milk is better -for Our Baby, than any -prepared food."</p> - -<p>The debate on the above -subject will start at seven -o’clock next Thursday evening. -The Conservatives of -our Colony will speak in -favor of cow’s milk as a baby’s food. The Progressives -will speak in favor of prepared food.</p> - -<p>The parliamentary rules governing the debate -will be the same as govern a “catch-as-catch-can” -wrestling match.</p> - -<p>No slugging will be permitted until forensic -effort has proven ineffective. When further argument -has become useless, the three-ounce boxing -gloves, recently donated to us, may be used to -force a decision. In fact, several of the boys who -talk but little, are practising with the gloves, so -that they may become factors in the final settlement -of the problem.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, the literary coterie is in deep -study. One boy is reading up reference books on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -the subject whenever he can find the time. Still -another blindfolds himself and opens the Bible at -random, looking for spiritual guidance on the subject -of infant diet. Of course the Court of Final -Appeal will be Her Ladyship—The Baby Herself.</p> - -<p>She already knows a great deal about crackers -and breakfast foods, and she is far too clever not -to have her own opinion on the dietary properties -of milk and its substitutes.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And now it may be in point to tell how we came -to have a ten-months-old baby at our Colony.</p> - -<p>We are ostensibly a young men’s colony—men -and boys trying to get to their feet and become -independent and self-supporting. But if anyone -comes to us hungry, we like to give them something -more edible than a card to a professional -charity.</p> - -<p>Had Hunger delayed her coming another week, -Our Baby and her mother might have been driven -to ask food and shelter on Christmas Eve. As it -was, they came to us on December 19th, at ten -o’clock in the evening. They had no place in -which to sleep except the local police station, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -that is not the place for a little baby—even strong -men weaken in the chill of its hospitality.</p> - -<p>So, on their arrival, the boys who were retiring -for the night, held a conference. Our supply of -beds and bedding did not even equal the demand -made upon it by the boys themselves. But that -did not cause them to hesitate, and all agreed that -they must not turn the newcomers away. One -boy immediately gave up his blanket, the second -his comforter, the third his bed. In that way the -mother and baby were made comfortable for the -night, little realizing that they were taking anything -away from those who had nothing to spare. -But homeless men are quickly sympathetic, for -what they know of hunger and cold is not altogether -hearsay.</p> - -<p>On the next day we undertook to make more -permanent provision for the Baby and Mary, her -mother. We began to look around for beds. We -asked two of the kind-hearted clergymen if they -could obtain a bed for our new arrivals. One of -them phoned me later in the day to ask me what -town the poor people were from, and when I informed -him, he said "The woman should have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -applied to the charity association of the city from -which they came. If the case was worthy, aid -would be given."</p> - -<p>Worthy or unworthy, we didn’t feel like sending -the Baby away. She was teething and fretful, -and a teething, fretful baby may not be as worthy -as one who grins and bears it.</p> - -<p>The other minister said, “The wonderful work -the Church was doing, had not so much to do -with the poor in this life, as in the hereafter.” -Now in truth, while the mother was discouraged -and didn’t care anything about life as far as she -herself was concerned, she had ambition for her -child, so she could not qualify and ask assistance -under these conditions.</p> - -<p>The boys themselves made two wooden beds, -and fitted up a room for the Baby, while the mother -in turn helped the young men in the kitchen.</p> - -<p>The Baby has grown strong and well. She likes -her big brothers with all their noise and horseplay, -and they like their Baby. To see rough homeless -men sing lullabies to an infant-in-arms, congratulating -themselves when she falls asleep -soothed by the monotonous humming of some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -cradle song that they themselves thought they had -forgotten long ago, might renew one’s faith in the -kindly humanity that lives in every heart.</p> - -<p>Has not Christ said, “And whosoever shall receive -one such little child in my name, receiveth -me.”</p> - - -<p>THE BABY’S FATHER</p> - -<p>Now, this Baby has a father. He has lived in -Russia and came to America to earn money. One -of his older brothers was already located in New -York State, and from his letters sent over the sea, -it was plain that the opportunities for wealth in -the States were most promising.</p> - -<p>The older brother had grown rich—very rich—working -on the railroad. He never earned less -than nine dollars a week, and now that he spoke -English, he earned twelve.</p> - -<p>Such stories of easily acquired wealth lured -John, as we call him, to leave his Fatherland with -his wife and child. But unfortunately for John -and his family, they reached America during the -recent panic. Thousands of workmen were idle. -In New York, John could find no work. Even the -rich brother only worked part of the time, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -having wife and children of his own, had nothing -to divide with John and his family. So John -drifted away seeking employment.</p> - -<p>The few dollars that he brought with him became -exhausted, and although he studied English -evenings, he spoke it brokenly. One of the boys -at the Colony said he talked in “kindlewood.”</p> - -<p>While he was seeking employment, no word -came to the wife and child. Some said John would -never come back. But Mary believed in him. She -said that he had always loved the baby and he -knew that she herself could work. But at times -even she doubted when weeks followed weeks -and no word came.</p> - -<p>Once when one of the boys was going to New -York, she called him aside quietly, and said, “You -will see John in New York, I think.... Big man, -light hair ... tell him come home, see Baby.... -I want him.”</p> - -<p>But John was not seen in New York.</p> - -<p>It was not until a few days ago that he returned. -He had traveled through New York State and on -to Massachusetts. No work—everywhere no -work! Sometimes he had walked. Sometimes he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -had jumped a freight. All to no purpose. He had -wanted to write good news to Mary, and he had -no good news to write. Always bad news. He -was a failure. He had wished he might end it all, -but the thought of the Baby had made him continue -the search for employment.</p> - -<p>Finally, one day, a rich man in Montclair needed -a gardener. This man was rich—not rich like his -brother—but had houses and acres of splendid -farm. He would pay two dollars a day wages to -a man willing to work. It seemed too good to believe. -He would hurry back to his Baby and Mary. -They must know the good news.</p> - -<p>So he came and told Mary he had a job, and a -little home for her and the Baby. They would be -rich like his brother.</p> - -<p>So Mary went with John and they took their -Baby, all tied up in shawls.</p> - -<p>That was yesterday—Monday—so there will -be no argument Thursday on “Whether or not -old-fashioned cow’s milk is better for babies than -prepared foods.”</p> - -<p>Because we homeless men have lost Our Baby.</p> - -<p>One of the boys asked the Chairman—another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -boy—if they would have the Debate, now that -the Baby was gone?</p> - -<p>“To hell with it,” replied the Presiding Officer.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The above is a true story, and to The Self -Master Colony, all a part of the day’s work.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_034.jpg" alt="Monk with baby" /> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>MY PROBLEM WITH SLIPPERY JIM</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“When a boy goes to prison, a citizen dies.”</p> - - <p class="quotsig"> - —Jacob Riis - </p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">My Problem with Slippery Jim.</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_m_039.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“My</span> razor went yesterday -for a beef stew,” the -young dare-devil told me. -“Not that I am one of -those collar-and-necktie-rounders,” -he continued, -"who seek to give out the -impression that they are -gentlemen in distress, telling -you of their Southern family and a squandered -fortune when, in fact, they have never been -further South than Coney Island.... But when -a fellow decides to sell his razor he is about to -commit an act that severs the jugular vein of his -respectability.</p> - -<p>"He may have, only the moment before, shaven -and groomed himself with the utmost care, still -he is nearly ready to join the ranks of the down-and-outs. -A man may sell his other belongings—his -clothes included—and yet preserve a -suggestion at least of his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">sang-froid</i>. But when -the razor goes—"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then he can get a free shave at the Barbers’ -School,” I suggested.</p> - -<p>“That only helps for a day or two,” he went -on. “Better throw up your hands at once and -have it over. What man half ill with worry -cares to listen to some ambitious pupil say, -‘Teacher, shall I shave the right side of his face -up, or shave it down?’—and, ‘Teacher, how do -you shave the upper lip without cutting it?’ and, -‘Teacher, if I do cut it, shall I disinfect it with -carbolic or peroxide before I put on the new -skin?’—No Barbers’ School for me. It is better -to turn philosopher on the instant—the old -philosophers and prophets grew long beards.... -Talk about getting next to Nature in about -three days after a man has sold his razor, Nature -will get next to him, and if he is not as beardless -as an American Indian, he will be convinced -when he sees himself in a mirror, of the truth of -the Darwinian theory.”</p> - -<p>“In Russia,” I said, “the beard is the patriarch’s -badge of sanctity.”</p> - -<p>“So it is in Jersey and several other States,” -he replied. "Many a so-called hobo with two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -weeks’ growth of beard on his face may be at -heart only a conscientious respecter of the law—for -it is a misdemeanor in New Jersey to carry a -razor. It is legally declared to be a concealed -weapon. Many a poor rascal against whom a -charge of vagrancy could not be maintained has -found it so much the worse for him, and has been -forced to go to prison for carrying concealed -weapons in the form of a razor. So you see in -Jersey, as well as in Russia, a beard may be only -proof of honor.... The cleanly shaven man who -knocks at your side door and wins the unsuspecting -wife’s confidence with that time-worn platitude -of Vagabondia, ‘Lady, all I want is work,’ -may have a weapon concealed upon his person, -while the unshaven wanderer, the sight of whom -makes the women folks bolt doors, may be a -homeless fellow who really wants work, and -would rather be unkempt in appearance than -chance a prison-term for carrying a razor."</p> - -<p>“So you have sold your razor?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Not because I am trying to compete with -your Russian patriarch in sanctity. I sold it because -I’m desperate.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then you were not afraid of the misdemeanor -charge?”</p> - -<p>He replied with a laugh that I did not like, and -I felt quickly to see if my watch was still in my -possession.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want your watch,” he said, “but it -isn’t the fear of doing time that holds me back. -I know what my friend wrote about me. I have -made up my mind to play square. You may not -believe it. You have heard too many mission -testimonies to believe much in them. But if I -live right—it isn’t because my heart is softened, -my heart is cold and hard as a paving block.”</p> - -<p>“Your friend wrote that you weren’t such a -bad fellow.”</p> - -<p>"Don’t believe him. In Elmira they have a -scheme of percentage, and if a man gets above a -certain percent he can win his freedom. In the -four years I was there I was safely within the -required percentage—all I had to do was to continue -my good behavior. I was within a few days -of freedom. Did you ever sense hatred—pure -hatred? Shylock felt it when he refused to accept -money to cancel Antonio’s bond; when he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -not listen to threats or entreaties, but only muttered, -‘I’ll have my pound of carrion flesh.’ I -know what he felt. In the night, after weeks and -weeks of patient study and labor—after months -of good conduct, when I played their game and -won the chance of freedom. In the night, without -reason, I jumped from my bed and battered -at the bars and yelled and cursed at them all, -until they put me in the dungeon and took from -me my high percent. I lost a year that time."</p> - -<p>“Do the prison bars still hold you,” I asked -him.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“You act like a mad man when you talk of the -past. Some men can never throw off the thought -of their imprisonment. It rules their life. They -think only of prison and the crimes that follow -such thinking. There is no hope for them. Can’t -you see it is your ideals that enslave or make you -free? Can’t you see you are free?”</p> - -<p>“It’s mighty hard,” he said, "but I want to -forget. My friend sent me to you. He said you -knew the path to freedom, and would help me. -Days and days I have waited for you to come to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -me. My father would not have me at home, my -friends left me, my money grew less and less—my -clothes went, my razor—everything. And -still you did not come. Sometimes I’d meet a -boy that told me of your work. Sometimes I -would doubt all I had heard, and then I would -become indifferent—mutter a prayer or plan a -crime. At last the letter came. I knew I was -being put to the test, and I sought to be firm. -Oh, God, such a test! What is it holds a man? -I was hungry, yet I knew how to steal; I needed -money, and I knew where I could rob with reasonable -safety. What is it holds a man like me? -At times I have thought it was my belief in you."</p> - -<p>“You mean our Colony held out a hope to you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid to take you into my Family,” I -told him.</p> - -<p>“For fear I’ll steal from you?” he said, coldly.</p> - -<p>“No, not that; I fear you cannot leave your -prison thoughts behind you when you enter the -Colony.”</p> - -<p>“If you help me,” he said, thoughtfully, “I -think I can begin anew.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Will you promise never to speak to me or -anyone of your past life?”</p> - -<p>“I will not speak of it again.”</p> - -<p>“Then you may go to the entrance gate with -me, and there I will decide if I can take you in.”</p> - -<p>We talked on the way to the farm about many -things—for he had read and traveled much. We -made no mention of the Family or its work, but -as we came near the Colony House I stopped.</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” I said, “did they teach you a trade -at Elmira?”</p> - -<p>“I’m a metal roofer by trade,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Did you learn the trade in prison?” I asked -him.</p> - -<p>“I think you mistake me for some other man,” -he replied, quietly. “I know nothing about prison -life.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, not only your friend told -me that you had served a term, but you told me -yourself?” I said, severely.</p> - -<p>He looked calmly into my face, but there were -tears in his eyes.</p> - -<p>"I could not have told you, for had I told you -such a foolish falsehood I would have remem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>bered -it. Let us talk of something else."</p> - -<p>“Very good,” I said, pleasantly. He was trying -to forget the past.</p> - -<p>At that moment there came to us the vigorous -clamor of an old cow bell.</p> - -<p>“It is the bell that calls the boys to their evening -meal.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“Come, let us hurry, so we may be served at -the first table, for you are hungry.”</p> - - -<p class="ph4">II</p> - -<p>The holy Vedas teach us that as we pass from -life to life, Time places gentle fingers over the -eyes of memory, lest we become disheartened by -past errors and falter enslaved by the fears of -what we have been. Like the child who, having -worked out a problem on his slate, erases it all, -keeping only the answer, so we have within our -soul-life the result of our past experiences; all the -rest is erased.</p> - -<p>Who cares about the detailed account of all the -happenings along the path we have traveled? -We know intuitively that much of the past must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -be condemned, but that which concerns us vitally -is the life we aim to live to-day.</p> - -<p>Night closes on the sorrows of yesterday. Dawn -is radiant with the promise of a better day.</p> - -<p>Our friend, “Slippery Jim,” tried to believe all -this, and to look with hope towards the future, -but he kept much to himself. He would take -long walks into the woods.</p> - -<p>It disturbed me to see him so slow to take the -boys into his confidence.</p> - -<p>“I never see you reading with the other men -in the evening,” I told him. “Men who love solitude -are either very good or very bad.”</p> - -<p>“I will try to do better,” he answered, “but for so -many years I have been used to being by myself.”</p> - -<p>“Still one has to live in the world—and our -world here is rather small,” I said. “Cheerfulness -is a duty one owes to his own soul.”</p> - -<p>“And to others,” he added.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and to others,” I replied.</p> - -<p>"I am inclined to view lightly my duty to others. -I owed a debt—a great debt once—to others, -and I have paid it. They measured it out of my -life, the payment they demanded. I have paid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -it—paid it in tears and wretchedness—paid it -out of my heart and soul. Now I prefer to live -apart.... The Indians, so the poet says, when -on the march, leave their old and sick alone to -die. I am a sick savage, and as such, I ask my -rights."</p> - -<p>“Do you believe in the Great Spirit and the -Happy Hunting Grounds?” I asked gently, for I -knew he had no Indian blood in his veins.</p> - -<p>“Their religion is as good as many another, -and quite as poetical.”</p> - -<p>“Then go into the forest and pray to your Great -Spirit,” I said. “Only don’t discredit him by -being inconsiderate of others who would be kind -to you.”</p> - -<p>“Do I not do my work?” he asked, with rising -anger.</p> - -<p>“You are expected to do your work, but I am -not speaking to you on that subject. I want to -know what you are thinking about while you are -at work.”</p> - -<p>“If you please, that is my own affair.”</p> - -<p>“If you please, it is my affair also. You came -out here to have me help you. I want to help you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You have helped me; you took me into this -Colony when my father had closed the door on -me; you have given me food—such as it is—and -out of the clothes sent in you have given me this -second-hand suit.”</p> - -<p>“And you have worked like the other men and -paid by your labor for what you received?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And that is all there is to it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“It is very, very little I have done for you,” -and I started to leave him.</p> - -<p>“Wait a moment”—he stopped me. “I did -not intend to be unkind to you. You have treated -me much better than I have deserved.”</p> - -<p>“It is something to have even simple food when -one is hungry,” I said, severely. “You have also -more courage than when you came. In your work -you know courage is quite important. You will -soon be able to go back to your old life.”</p> - -<p>“No, not that,” his voice becoming less hardened. -"In these days I have lived with you and -observed the happiness you get out of your -work—in spite of its sacrefice—and compared it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -with my own way of living, I can not understand -how I could have ignored the good there’s in me. -But, really, you should not expect us all to be as -cheerful as you are. You may see clearly the -Truth that we see only through a glass darkly."</p> - -<p>“So you plan to live like an honest man?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely.”</p> - -<p>“Then I have not really lost after all,” I said, -thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“What did you say?” he questioned, not having -heard clearly my remark.</p> - -<p>“I said that if you have determined to live honestly, -that is something.”</p> - -<p>That evening I saw him walking up and down -the kitchen floor with our Baby in his arms—for -that Winter we had a homeless mother and Baby -at the Colony. The Baby was kicking and laughing -as he carried her with measured stride around -the room.</p> - -<p>“I simply must put her to sleep,” he said, confidingly.</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you sing to her,” I suggested.</p> - -<p>“I am hazy on my slumber songs,” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>A little later the Baby was nodding with half -closed eyes.</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t she look pretty,” said the admiring -mother.</p> - -<p>“She looks like Jeffries at the end of the fifth,” -was Jim’s reply.</p> - -<p>A few moments later I heard him as he walked, -singing music of his own improvising to the words -of Wilde’s prison poem:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"With slouch and swing around the ring,</div> - <div class="verse">We trod the Fools’ Parade!</div> - <div class="verse">We did not care; we knew we were</div> - <div class="verse">The Devil’s Own Brigade;</div> - <div class="verse">And shaven head and feet of lead</div> - <div class="verse">Make a merry masquerade."</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="ph4">III</p> - -<p>The Winter was nearly over when “Slippery -Jim” came to me and expressed a wish to return -to the World again. If his father would only -accept him once more!</p> - -<p>My observation of a father’s attitude towards -his prodigal son is that the moment the son desires -to live as he ought, not only do closed doors open, -but the father stands ready with outstretched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -arms to receive him. This supposedly harsh -father, when he was convinced that his Jim -had worked faithfully at the Colony for several -months, was anxious that his son return home. -Even the boy’s old employer expressed sympathy -and offered a position to him.</p> - -<p>When this good news came I did not have to -tell the boy anything about its being one’s duty -to be cheerful. He wanted to dance a clog on -the table in the men’s reading room.</p> - -<p>Early the next morning he left us, not waiting -to thank us, which was quite unnecessary; nor -hardly stopping to say good-bye to us. But a -few days afterward he wrote to me, saying that -after four years he was back with his father and -mother, brother and sisters, in his own room, -sleeping in his own bed. The family had arranged -it just the same as it had been before he left them -for those sad years in prison. His father had purchased -him a new suit for Easter. The next day -he was to start to work.</p> - -<p>Nearly a year later he visited me. His work -had taken him out of town. "When I first met<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -you," he said. “I didn’t have a home. Now it is -a question which one to visit first, but I thought -I would come out to see you, and then go this -evening and see my other father.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_053.jpg" alt="Blindfolded monk" /> -</div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>OUR FRIEND, THE ANARCHIST.</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.</p> - - <p class="quotsig"> - —Bible. - </p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">Our Friend, The Anarchist</p> - - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_h_057.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">He</span> said that he came from -Germany, but he didn’t -look it, for Germany is a -beautiful country, and he -was far removed from -even a suggestion of -beauty. Had he said he -had just arrived from “No -Man’s Land,” it would -have been easily accredited. For a German, even -his accent and grammatical construction were -unsatisfactory. He did not begin his sentences -in the middle and talk both ways at once, after -the well established custom of Americanized -Teutons. In the stress of his excitement he -expressed himself concisely and clearly.</p> - -<p>He was seated in the Charity House awaiting -the investigation of the social workers. He held -his head in his hands, while his body convulsed -frequently, and tears were in his eyes.</p> - -<p>To see a man with unkempt whiskers indulging -in a crying spell like a delicate woman, is -almost as humorous as it is pathetic, unless one -knows what the man is crying about. Then, too,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -the Germans, unlike the Irish, take their trouble -seriously, so that their despair often creates for -them the hell they fear.</p> - -<p>Surely it wasn’t a German who in the old Bible -days sent hired mourners to go about the street; -it was undoubtedly an Irishman whose genius -conceived the idea of paying other men to do his -weeping for him.</p> - -<p>“Where are you from?” I asked the German.</p> - -<p>He surveyed me suspiciously from head to -foot, then replied politely enough: “I am of German -parentage and have lived the greater part of -my life in Heidelberg, where my father and grandfather -were instructors in the University.”</p> - -<p>“When did you arrive in America?” I asked -him.</p> - -<p>“A few days ago,” he answered. "I came from -Paris, where I met with heavy—heavy for me—financial -reverses. I attempted to conduct a business -similar to your brokers, who loan money on -personal property, but being unfamiliar with -French law, I found I could not legally enforce -payments of the loans I made to the Frenchmen. -My entire life savings—small, it is true—were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -lost. In disgust I came to America, and my condition -now is worse than ever. I am desperate."</p> - -<p>He did not raise his voice, speaking quietly, but -his hands were nervous, and his eyes reminded -me of Svengali—fascinating, but dangerous. My -impression was that I had seen safer men locked -in darkened cells and allowed only wooden spoons -with which to eat.</p> - -<p>“Has the charity association decided to help -you?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“I fear not,” he replied. “They wish me to -tell them my father’s address in Germany, as -they inform me that they always make thorough -investigations. Several times they asked me my -home address, but I turned them from the point, -as I have no intention of adding my burdens to -the burdens my father and mother already have.... -Does it seem quite generous of your social -workers to be so insistent?... But, pardon -me, have you not a saying that ‘Beggars must -not be choosers?’”</p> - -<p>I did not reply to his question, as I was thinking -what my Reception Committee—made up of -the boys of the Colony—would say to me if I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -invited this much-bewhiskered individual to join -our Family. For the instant I forgot the German’s -troubles in the thought of the troubles -which I was about to take upon myself. I smiled -at my approaching embarrassment. “It is all -very well,” the boys had cautioned me, “to hold -us responsible for the newly-arrived members, -to make certain that no criminal nor fraud obtains -admission to the Family, but you might be a -little more discriminating in your selections, could -you not?”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The German was quick to avail himself of my -offer to join the Colony; he would go to Hoboken -and get his luggage and join me as soon as possible. -His luggage—he met me an hour later—consisted -of a wooden box too small to be called -a trunk, too large to be called a valise.</p> - -<p>As we approached the Colony House we passed -several of the boys who had evidently seen us at -a distance, for they appeared deeply interested -in the setting sun, their faces turned from us. -Finally one fellow who, like a good Pullman porter, -can laugh at you without changing his facial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -expression, only if you watch closely you may -note that the muscles at the back of the neck -dance in uncontrolled merriment—came forward -and said to us: “A beautiful sunset.”</p> - -<p>He should have been reprimanded for his impudence, -but I simply asked, “Where?”</p> - -<p>“In the west,” he explained. Then the boys -turned and laughed without restraint.</p> - -<p>“An ordinary sunset and a most ordinary joke,” -I said, rather icily. But they continued to laugh, -first looking at my companion and then at me.</p> - -<p>“Not so ordinary,” said another boy. “If you -could see it from where we are you could understand.”</p> - -<p>“I understand you only too well,” I answered.</p> - -<p>Then the two boys who were on the Reception -Committee came over to us and took my -German friend in hand. There were no more -remarks until we reached the house and the man -himself was quite out of hearing.</p> - -<p>“Why did you bring out a man like that?” the -cook questioned me soon after I reached the -house, and every one looked up from the even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>ing -paper he was reading anxious to have his -little laugh.</p> - -<p>But years have taught me somewhat of the -ways of men. Did not Moses, when the children -of Israel attempted to entangle him in argument, -make his contention invulnerable by stating, -“God spake unto Moses, saying,——”</p> - -<p>After that there wasn’t much chance for argument. -The best thing they could do at such a -time was to quietly line up in the ranks. And -there is an answer that will always check the -hilarity of homeless men and make them as sympathetic -as children.</p> - -<p>“Why did you bring him out with you?” the -cook repeated.</p> - -<p>“Why?” I said, simply, “the man is hungry.”</p> - -<p>Each boy frowned at the cook and turned back -to his reading. And the cook made no answer, -except he served the new-comer with double -portions.</p> - -<p>That night the German slept with his bed -between the two beds of the Reception Committee, -and I heard nothing from him until they came -to report to me in the morning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Father,” said one of the committee, “I don’t -like that old party you brought out with you -yesterday. All night long in his sleep he was -muttering: ‘Down with the millionaire; curse the -capitalist’—that man is an anarchist.”</p> - -<p>A moment later the second member of the committee -came in.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Floyd, you know that wooden box that -‘Whiskers’ brought with him?” he asked, nervously; -“I put my ear down to it and listened. -I could hear something inside going tick, tick, -tick, as plain as day.”</p> - -<p>“You are excited,” I said. “After breakfast send -the man to me.”</p> - -<p>In my room the German and myself talked a -long time.</p> - -<p>I asked him about the University of Heidelberg, -the influence of the student in German politics and -of the world-wide socialistic movement—had -he ever read the works of Karl Marx, the great -Socialist?</p> - -<p>No, he never had.</p> - -<p>Had he ever read La Salle, the anarchist?</p> - -<p>No.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>Or, in his travels, had he ever seen that little -pamphlet entitled, “Dynamite as a Revolutionary -Agency?”</p> - -<p>No.</p> - -<p>But despite the denial, it was plain to see that -my old German was the anarchist that my committee -had decided him to be. So I sent out -word that the boys should redouble their kindness -to their half-crazed friend. It was an -opportunity to try our simple methods upon a -man who felt that the sad old world and its -many peoples were as utterly lost as a man may -become who believes that there is no good within -himself. Men who feel themselves to be evil, they -work evil.</p> - -<p>Hardly had a fortnight passed before our good -anarchist caught the spirit of the place and began -to feel that kindly sympathy that dwells even in -the hearts of stranded men. The young men -grew really fond of him.</p> - -<p>At night he was the last man to knock at my -door to see that everything had been given attention; -in the morning he was the first to ask what -I wished done.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was a cheery “good night” and a cheery -“good morning.” After several months our anarchist -succeeded in finding his brother’s address in -Philadelphia. The brother offered him a home -and a chance to work, so it was arranged for our -friend to go to him.</p> - -<p>As he was bidding me “adieu” he said: "When -we first met, you asked me if I had read any -anarchistic writings, and I answered you untruthfully. -I have read the authors you mentioned, -and in my desperation I do not know to what -extreme I might not have gone, for I had lost faith -in all men.</p> - -<p>"But to see these young men at the Colony, -forgetful of their own troubles, trying to help me -to a renewal of courage, gave me a clearer viewpoint -of life—the blood I see now in my dreams -is not that of the capitalist done to death by a -communistic mob—it is the blood of the gentle -Christ, who said:</p> - -<p>“‘Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a><br /><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_067.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">MAIN BUILDING FROM THE BUNGALOW</p> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>A BASHFUL BEGGAR</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“Faint heart ne’er won fair lady.”</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">A Bashful Beggar</p> - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_i_071.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“It</span> is his diffidence,” the -good lady told me, “that -has caused the young man -to fail dismally in this -strenuous age of materialism. -His is a gentle spirit!”</p> - -<p>At their first meeting, she -told me, when he called at -her home and asked for -something to eat, he appeared so shy and embarrassed -that she was immediately interested in -him. He blushed and stammered in a most -pitiable way, and after he had eaten heartily of -the roast beef and potatoes placed before him he -wanted to hurry away, hardly having the courage -to remain and thank his benefactor.</p> - -<p>The good lady told me all this in such a serious -manner that I felt I must accept it seriously, and -when she suggested that I drive over to a neighboring -village to meet the boy at the train, because, -being unaccustomed to travel, he could -never find his way alone to the Colony, I arranged -to meet him.</p> - -<p>There are simple-minded men—mental defectives—who -are oftentimes helpless as children,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -and I was inclined to put this boy in that class.</p> - -<p>But the lad whom I found waiting for me at -the station came out to meet me in a manner so -self-possessed that for the instant I was startled. -The report of him seemed to be much in error.</p> - -<p>“I ought not to have put you to all this trouble,” -he said, in ready apology.</p> - -<p>“The letter,” I replied, “stated that you might -not be able to find your way.”</p> - -<p>He gave me a sly, shrewd glance, and then, -confident that he was understood, he said simply, -“Indeed?”</p> - -<p>“Naturally you did not confide in the lady who -sent you, that you had freighted it through most -States as far as the railroads go?”</p> - -<p>“No, I did not approach her as a penitent at -confessional,” he answered, “but rather as a panhandler -at the side door. Confession may help -to advance a man spiritually, but to a man living -on the material plane, would you advise it?”</p> - -<p>“Is it true,” I asked, “that you stammered and -blushed when our friend offered you roast beef -and potatoes?”</p> - -<p>“It is my best canvass,” he replied.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - -<p>We had driven some distance while this conversation -was in progress, and coming to cross-roads, -I was uncertain of the direction.</p> - -<p>“Go in to that farmhouse, please,” I said to my -companion, pointing to a cheerful looking home a -short distance from the road, “and inquire the -way?”</p> - -<p>He alighted quickly and went around to the -side door out of my sight. I waited, every -moment expecting him to return with the desired -information, and was growing impatient when -he came out to me, his face beaming with the -enthusiasm that follows a successful interview.</p> - -<p>“This is your share,” he said, holding out a -generous portion of hot apple pie to me. “The -lady who lives here is a motherly soul—very -proud of her cooking, and the pie did smell most -tempting—I could not resist.”</p> - -<p>“Did you use your usual ‘blush and stammer’ -method to solicit this pastry?” I questioned him.</p> - -<p>“No, she was as hungry for my compliments -as I was for her apple pie, so we simply made a -fair exchange.”</p> - -<p>“And the directions back to the Colony?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The direction?” and he felt extremely stupid. -“I felt all the time that—in my sub-conscious -mind—there was a thought trying to assert itself.”</p> - -<p>“But the strength of a bad habit,” I remarked, -“held back the thought: habit is a strong force -for good or evil, for it perpetuates itself by a form, -as it were, of auto-suggestion. You know all -suggestions are powerful.”</p> - -<p>“It is good pie, isn’t it?” he asked, irrelevantly.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_074.jpg" alt="Man, woman and pie" /> -</div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>FRITZ AND HIS SUN DIAL</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“The small task—well performed—opens the - door to larger opportunity.”</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">Fritz and His Sun Dial</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_y_077.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Years</span> ago, I saw a near-sighted -cook peeling onions—a -most pathetic scene if -one judges entirely from -appearances. The incident -impressed me deeply at the -time, although it had long -since passed from my mind, -when good old Fritz came -to me, with tears running down the dusty furrows -of his be-wrinkled and weather-beaten face.</p> - -<p>Some strange analogy revived the old memory. -There is—say what one will—something tremendously -ludicrous about honesty when clothed -too deeply in rusticity. We smile at it while we -give it our love and respect.</p> - -<p>It can toy with our heart-strings, playing both -grave and gay. We laugh at it so that we may -not cry and become laughable ourselves.</p> - -<p>In broken English, he tried to explain that which -was self-evident and needed no explanation—his -own distress and desperation. His simple earnestness—his -frank, honest manner—won every -one’s immediate sympathy. The boys began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -plan to relieve his distress, even while they laughed -with scant courtesy in the old man’s face.</p> - -<p>His clothes were many sizes too large, which -was not entirely offset by his cap that was several -sizes too small. Through his broken shoes, ten -toes spoke in most eloquent English—the need -of protection and shelter.</p> - -<p>“What could ever cause a man to get into such -a condition?” asked a fellow, who, three weeks -before, had arrived quite as dishevelled, but had -already forgotten the fact, which is just as well.</p> - -<p>“The cause?” asked the German.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Beer.”</p> - -<p>“Beer! You are the first man I ever saw who -got to such a finish on beer,” returned the questioner.</p> - -<p>“I drink nothing else—never,” the old German -affirmed.</p> - -<p>“I am thinking Mr. Floyd will try to clean you -up in a hurry—or not at all—if you tell him -that beer put you down and out.”</p> - -<p>“I hope so,” said the old man; “I feel pretty -bad.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Some mighty arguments have been put out -that it is the distilled liquors that do all the mischief; -that light wine and malt liquors are no -more harmful than tea. And here you are in our -camp to disprove this contention. If you say you -have been on a beer debauch, you may not be -believed.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe someone put a little apple-jack into my -glass when I wasn’t looking,” replied the German, -quickly, as he went into the boys’ kitchen to get -a little coffee.</p> - -<p>So it came about that Fritz became a Colony -member, and his good nature made him a general -favorite almost immediately. His strength returned -to him rapidly.</p> - -<p>The final cure was effected when, among the -books that came in, one of the men found a German -volume. He took it to Fritz with some misgiving, -as it was a work on astronomy, and Fritz -did not resemble a Heidelberg professor; but when -our friend glanced at the book and saw the German -text, and then, on closer scrutiny, observed that -it was a work on astronomy, he became excitedly -enthusiastic.</p> - -<p>“Good! Very good! I am happy to get it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was a week later, an hour or two after midnight, -I saw Fritz in the moonlight, walking -around outside the house.</p> - -<p>I went out to question him, as his actions -seemed strange to me.</p> - -<p>“What is the trouble, Fritz?” I asked him.</p> - -<p>“It is nothing.”</p> - -<p>“But I would rather not have the men out so -late,” I said.</p> - -<p>“I cannot find it,” he replied.</p> - -<p>“Find what, Fritz? What have you lost?”</p> - -<p>“I cannot find the North Star,” he said, sadly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know where to look for it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; but it is always cloudy.”</p> - -<p>At that moment the clouds began to move—not -because Fritz wished it, but his patience had -outstayed the clouds.</p> - -<p>“There it is. That’s it,” he exclaimed, as he -ran into the stable, leaving me standing alone -star-gazing to no purpose. But Fritz rejoined -me as abruptly as he had left me. He had -brought out with him a square board with an -iron rod running through it.</p> - -<p>“What have you there?” I questioned him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It is my sun-dial; it is my own invention. I -have never seen a sun-dial, but I am sure that -mine will be as correct as any of them.”</p> - -<p>Then he fastened the dial firmly on a stump, -pointing the wire straight at the North Star.</p> - -<p>“In the morning I can see if I am right. Good -night, Mr. Floyd.”</p> - -<p>“Good night, Fritz.”</p> - -<p>For several weeks Fritz worked about the place -timing his labor by his ingenious invention. Sometimes -he would work after the shadows had -passed the quitting hour.</p> - -<p>“The dial tells us,” I said to him one day, “that -it is time to stop work.”</p> - -<p>“No,” he said, “sun-dials are never exact; sometimes -they vary fifteen minutes, at least. For the -Earth goes around the Sun not in a circle but in -an ellipse. I will work a little longer.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One Sunday I overheard Fritz talking excitedly -out near the spot where the dial was stationed. -I thought he had for the moment forgotten he -was a Self Master—as all men are likely at times -to forget. But when I went out to check the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -noise, I found that Fritz had ten or fifteen of the -men standing in front of him and he was saying:</p> - -<p>“It is easy to do—to measure the distance to -the Sun, or the distance from one planet to another. -There are a hundred methods, many of -them as simple as it is to measure the length of -a building.”</p> - -<p>“You are a student of astronomy?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, for many years, I have studied the German -books on astronomy. It is my pleasure.”</p> - -<p>From that day our respect for Fritz was established. -There is an aristocracy of learning; we -doff our hats to even the beggar who knows.</p> - -<p>The visitors were all interested in Fritz’s queer -looking sun-dial, made out of a square board and -piece of telegraph wire. Automobiles halted by -the roadside to look at it. The children insisted -on setting their Ingersolls by its falling shadow. -A well known physician stood examining the dial -one day. He took out his watch to make comparison.</p> - -<p>“Very clever,” he said, “very clever; now let -me see Fritz.” And Fritz came out.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> - -<p>“He isn’t much to look at,” the Doctor whispered -to me, as the old German approached us.</p> - -<p>Just then the five o’clock whistle blew. The -Doctor and I looked at the dial.</p> - -<p>“The shadow,” I said, “falls on the figure five.”</p> - -<p>“Quite true,” replied the Doctor.</p> - -<p>“It must,” said Fritz, quietly; “it must, for the -wire points to the North Star.”</p> - -<p>The Doctor smiled, as he spoke: “A man intelligent -enough to make that dial can, at least, -care for my stable and horses.... Fritz, -would you like to work for me? I have some -splendid horses and I pay well for their care.”</p> - -<p>“I will go gladly,” said Fritz; “when do you -want me?”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow,”</p> - -<p>“May I go, Mr. Floyd?”</p> - -<p>“On one condition,” I said.</p> - -<p>“What is it?”</p> - -<p>“You must give the Colony your sun-dial.”</p> - -<p>“It is nothing, but you may have it if you -like.”</p> - -<p>The next day Fritz was given a good suit of -clothes, a collar and tie.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t know about the collar and tie,” said -the old man; “I have not worn one for many -months.”</p> - -<p>Three or four of the boys helped him to button -on the collar and arrange the ascot effectively. -Then the Doctor came with his best span of pet -horses.</p> - -<p>“Jump in with me, Fritz,” he said.</p> - -<p>The old German, smiling, climbed in and then -turned, took his hat off to me and the boys.</p> - -<p>“Thank you.... Good luck,” he said.</p> - -<p>“You take the reins and drive,” said the Doctor.</p> - -<p>Fritz buttoned his coat tightly around him, -straightened up his old bent back and taking the -reins he proudly drove away.</p> - -<p>“He did not come in a carriage,” said a boy.</p> - -<p>“It is the Self Masters that helped him,” said -another.</p> - -<p>“You forget about the Sun-dial,” I said.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_076.jpg" alt="Decoration" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a><br /><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_086.jpg" alt="" /> - <div class="caption"> - <p>THE BUNGALOW FROM THE MAIN BUILDING</p> - </div> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>THE WAITER WHO DID NOT WAIT</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“Whoever is not master of himself is master - of nobody.”</p> - <p class="quotsig">—Stahl.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="ph2">The Waiter Who Did -Not Wait.</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_h_089.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Had</span> the schedule been followed -faithfully, it was the -time for the auto party to -have finished their tea and -toast and be awaiting the -chauffeur to come up with -their machine, but there -seemed to be a delay somewhere. -Investigation revealed -a peculiar condition of affairs. The visitors -were moving about rather impatiently while the -lunch, instead of being served, was rapidly getting -chilled on the side-board in an adjoining -room.</p> - -<p>“Where is Delmonico Bill, the attentive waiter,” -we asked, not a little surprised at his disappearance. -He was nowhere to be found, although we -hunted high and low for him.</p> - -<p>But to manage men successfully who admit -their irresponsibility needs an overseer who is -not only patient in disappointment, but who can -offer the pat excuse impromptu, and cheerfully -reassure friends that everything is all right, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>—unless -viewed from the standpoint of a year -from to-day—it is all wrong.</p> - -<p>On this special day there seemed to be no apparent -explanation except that the waiter did not -wait. But everything is a success that ends -happily, and the delayed lunch made the visitors -more than ever in sympathy with the Work. -Whoever loves us for our mistakes, shall become -more endeared to us as they know us better. -The diners—who had not dined—saw humor -in our embarrassment, and assured us of their -best wishes as they drove merrily away, leaving -us stupidly asking ourselves why the waiter had -left his guests unserved.</p> - -<p>It was nearly an hour later when Delmonico -Bill came down out of the hay loft, brushing the -dust and hay-seed from his clothes.</p> - -<p>“Has she gone?” he enquired stupidly.</p> - -<p>“Who?” we asked him in chorus.</p> - -<p>“My Sunday school teacher,” he explained.</p> - -<p>We awaited his further explanation. It was -the first time we had heard that he ever had -such a teacher.</p> - -<p>"It isn’t that I am in the least ashamed to serve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -as a waiter. Menial work that must be done is -not humiliating to me. But when I looked in at -the visitors as I was arranging their lunch on the -tray—I recognized in one of the ladies my old -Sunday school teacher—and when I thought to -what an extent I had disregarded her instructions -I hadn’t the courage to face her.... My, but it -was hot up in that haymow!...</p> - -<p>“The last time I saw this good lady was the -evening in the church vestry when the class -members gave her a group picture of themselves. -We all went to the local photographers together. -There were three rows of us—the tall, taller and -tallest—all raw-boned rascals trying to assume -the spiritual pose of Sir Galahad. I never cared -much for the photograph, but the frame—the -gold frame—much befiligreed was mighty impressive. -I remember it because there was -seventy-five cents of my money in it. I worked -hard for that money. It took me the best part -of three nights to get it from Cy Watson—playing -penny-ante in his father’s carriage house. -But I was happy to turn it to such good use.”</p> - -<p>“It was tainted money,” said one of the boys.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There wasn’t any such thing as tainted -money in those days. Money was money and -no one had any of it.</p> - -<p>"I made the presentation speech that night in -the vestry. It was a masterpiece. The teacher -and the women folks all cried. I have forgotten -the speech now; thirty years of knocking around -the world crowds out the memory of many -things that happened when we were boys in -Sunday school. But for years, I could repeat -that piece. I rehearsed for that evening over two -months—I could say it forwards or backwards, -I could start it in the middle and say it both -ways—in fact when I think of it, I rather believe -that was the way I did say it that evening, -because the applause that followed my humble -effort was too tempestuous, yet the scholars all -had their money in the gold frame, and the -teacher was to leave us next morning for the -East, where she was to marry some man of -prominence. My mother said I spoke splendidly, -but I doubt if she really heard me. She was -thinking how charming I looked in the new -trousers she had made for me. The truth was,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -she had worked all the night before to get them -ready. She had had some difficulty to make the -seams come down the side. As it was they were -not quite finished, but no one knew it but my -mother and me.</p> - -<p>“In the years that are to come,” I said in my -speech, “not only will your kindly instructions in -our Bible studies help us to meet and overcome -all temptation, but the inspiration which we have -received from your friendship and devotion to -our spiritual welfare will influence us throughout -our lives.”</p> - -<p>For the moment Delmonico Bill was silent—whatever -his thoughts may have been, he did -not share them with us. But presently, he observed -the tray with the tea and toast upon it, -just as he had left it.</p> - -<p>“It is too bad,” he said, “maybe she would not -have known me at all.... I am sorry ... but -you can understand.”</p> - -<p>Then he began to clear away the lunch. “The -tea is still warm,” he said smilingly, “I believe I -will pour a cup for myself ... my nerves are -jumping, it may quiet them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>He filled the cup and raising it he said: “Here -is to my Sunday school teacher who believed in -me in those days when I believed in myself. -God bless her.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_094.jpg" alt="Car and abstract decoration" /> -</div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>COMPOUNDING A FELONY</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“Train up a child in the way he should go: - and when he is old, he will not depart from - it.”</p> - <p class="quotsig">—Bible.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">Compounding a Felony</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_t_097.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">There</span> was a knock at the -door, but no one thought -of answering it until it was -repeated—more faintly, a -second time—then one of -the young men opened it, -saying to the newcomer, -“It is never locked, my -boy.”</p> - -<p>In stepped a lad some seventeen years of age, -and inquired in a voice hardly audible if he could -stay all night.</p> - -<p>The young men sent the new arrival to me for -an answer to his request. It was readily to be -seen that the boy was in a state of great excitement. -He acted so strangely that, contrary to -custom, I asked him why he had come.</p> - -<p>“The police are after me,” he stammered, as -he turned and looked nervously at the door.</p> - -<p>“What have you done?” I questioned the boy.</p> - -<p>"I stole a bicycle and the owner just saw me -walking along the street and started to chase me, -calling after me, ‘Stop, thief!’ A crowd began -to gather and I had all I could do to get away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -I ran around a building and joined the crowd in -the search; then, after a little, I dropped out of -sight again and decided that I would go out to -you for advice."</p> - -<p>"Where is the bicycle now?" I questioned.</p> - -<p>“I sold it,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Where is the money you got for it?”</p> - -<p>“I spent it.” He began to cry.</p> - -<p>“And now your conscience starts to trouble -you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>“My lad,” I told him, “this is no hiding place -for boys who steal, and for whom the police are -searching.”</p> - -<p>The boy did not reply; he turned aside and -brushed away the tears with his cap. Then he -started slowly towards the door.</p> - -<p>“So I can’t stay?” he said finally.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid not,” I replied.</p> - -<p>He went to the window and peered out into -the night.</p> - -<p>“They’ll get me,” he said, hopelessly, “and -when they do it means a long term in prison for -me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Wait a moment,” I said. “Have you been -arrested before.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, another boy and myself took some fancy -postal cards from a stationery stand. They were -funny pictures that we wanted for our collection. -We were sent to Jamesburg that time. Then -since I came from that institution I was arrested -again for something else I did and I am now out -on probation. Next time the judge said he would -give me a long sentence in the Rahway Reformatory.”</p> - -<p>“You should have thought of all this sooner,” -I said, with a sternness that I did not feel, for I -knew how easily one can drift from an evil -thought into an evil act.</p> - -<p>“I heard you helped boys when they needed -it,” ventured the young rascal. “I surely need -it now.”</p> - -<p>“I may help them when I can,” I replied, “but -I never intentionally make myself a partner in -their wrong doing.”</p> - -<p>“The judge ought not to give me more than -three years,” said the boy thoughtfully, "even -that is a long time.... The bicycle wasn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -worth more than five dollars any way. The -owner said he would sell it to me for that -amount."</p> - -<p>At that moment there was a noise in the next -room.</p> - -<p>“What was that?” asked the lad, trembling -with fear.</p> - -<p>“Your conscience is quite wakeful, my boy. -That was one of the men closing the windows -for the night.”</p> - -<p>The boy came over close to me so he could -look into my face, and there was a depth of seriousness -in his voice when he said, “So you think -I ought to give myself up and take the consequences?”</p> - -<p>“Three years in prison?” I asked, looking -straight at the boy. “Three years in prison!”</p> - -<p>The words of Jacob Riis flashed through my -mind—“When a boy goes to prison, a citizen dies.”</p> - -<p>“If you were in my place you would give -yourself up?” he asked me pointedly.</p> - -<p>I passed my hand across my eyes. Unlike the -boy I had no cap with which to brush away the -tears.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My boy,” I said, “I will be honest with you—I -would not give myself up.”</p> - -<p>“What would you do?”</p> - -<p>“First, I would make up my mind not to steal -any more, then I would earn money and pay -the man for the bicycle.”</p> - -<p>A new light came into the boy’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“I did not used to be a thief,” he said, “but -they made me mad. Ever since I came from -Jamesburg every one watches me. My old boy -friends, my father and mother, the police; someone’s -eye is always on me. Their suspicions -madden me. Sometimes it seems to me as if -they dared me to take another risk. One day on -the ferryboat from New York I met a detective -who had once arrested me. Wherever I went -he followed me. I was afraid, so I left the other -boys who were with me and went to the stern -of the boat. I didn’t tell anyone, but when I was -all alone I put my hands down into my own -pockets so he would know that I didn’t have -them in anyone else’s.... I’m not very old, -but I know that that isn’t the way to make a bad -boy into a good one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> - -<p>After a moment I said to him: “if I can arrange -with the owner of the bicycle so that you -can pay for it in small weekly payments, will -you join the Colony and out of the little money -you earn settle with the man you have wronged?”</p> - -<p>“If you will help me,” returned the lad hopefully, -“I will make good to the man and to you.”</p> - -<p>The next morning I talked the boy’s case over -with an elderly attorney who lives with us, and -who knows of his own knowledge the ruin one -can bring upon himself if he does not follow -proper methods. The old man gladly undertook -to settle with the owner of the stolen bicycle, -and save the boy from the consequences of his -wrongdoing.</p> - -<p>The boy worked industriously about the place -and in a few weeks had earned sufficient money -to settle satisfactorily for the bicycle. He is now -working on a neighbor’s farm and says that he -is determined to make something worth while -out of his life.</p> - -<p>“Do you know,” said the old attorney to me -recently, "if anyone ever charges us with having -compounded a felony in the case of this boy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -and his bicycle we can defend ourselves on the -technical ground that the bicycle was of such -slight value that the stealing of it was only a -petty crime."</p> - -<p>“In this case—the saving of a boy from -prison”—I answered him, “if a technicality saves -us from a criminal charge which might be brought -against us, I for one am perfectly satisfied with -such a defense.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_103.jpg" alt="Labor Omnia Vincit emblem" /> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>THE PASSING OF SULLIVAN</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“Friar Philip, you are the tuning fork from - whence my conscience takes its proper tone.”</p> - <p class="quotsig">—Richelieu.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="ph2">The Passing of Sullivan</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"What’s the name that grows</div> - <div class="verse">Upon you more and more?"</div> - <div class="verse indent6">“Sullivan!”—“That’s my name.”</div> - </div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"Who’s the man who wrote</div> - <div class="verse">The opera, Pinafore?"</div> - <div class="verse indent6">“Sullivan!”—“That’s my name.”</div> - </div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"Big Tim, you all knew him;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">John L., you know him well.</div> - <div class="verse">There never was a man, named Sullivan</div> - <div class="verse">Who wasn’t a d—— fine Irishman."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="quotsig"> -—<cite>George Cohan’s Song, “Sullivan.”</cite><br /> -</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_i_107.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">If</span> you thought it was imperative -to change your -name and you had access -to all the Literature—Ancient -and Modern—to -be found in a Carnegie -Library, would you select -for yourself the name -“Sullivan?”</p> - -<p>Evidently our Irish Lad agreed with Cohan—that -“it is a d—n fine name”—for when I recognized -in him one of my Family of Homeless -Men as he walked aimlessly along the city streets, -and asked him rather abruptly, what his name -might be, his reply—too long considered to be -truthful—was, “Frank Sullivan.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Pardon me,” I said, immediately realizing -that I had no right to ask of him the question and -that my thoughtlessness had caused the boy to -answer falsely. The outcast, distrustful of his -fellow, frequently seeks safety in falsehood until -friendship disarms suspicion and Love calls forth -the Truth for which it has not asked.</p> - -<p>“<em>Frank Sullivan</em>,” I said. “I, too, like the -name.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>So upon my invitation he came gladly into our -little Family to share the happy freedom of a -peaceful home, where others like himself give -honest work and receive—not in the spirit of -organized charity, but in the true warmth of -fraternal love—the hospitality of a welcome -guest.</p> - -<p>His Irish heart soon caught the meaning of the -work, and responded readily in thoughtful service.... -If our Self Master Colony attracted the -attention of some broad-minded man well known -in humanitarian work so that encouraged, it carried -me and my dreams of uplift higher and -higher until the stars were our near neighbors—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>Sullivan, -silent and attentive, followed me in my -dreams.</p> - -<p>If my work was misunderstood and my best -efforts discredited, Sullivan was at my side silently -consoling me with his loyalty and friendship.</p> - -<p>He grew into my life. I depended upon him -and he did not fail me.</p> - -<p>“Richelieu,” I would often say, “had his Friar -Philip to aid him in his ambitions and I have my -good friend Sullivan.”</p> - -<p>Then as the months passed, once again, the -grass spread its delicate carpet beneath our feet, -the trees blossomed sending a perfumed message -to us, the bluebird and the thrush called through -the open windows until we, busy with our work, -were forced to remark that Spring time had come—the -beginning of another year.... -Then the Brothers observed the progress we had -made in the twelvemonth.... It seemed so -much to them, so little to the outside world.</p> - -<p>“It looks more prosperous now,” said Sullivan -proudly as he observed the automobiles stopping -at the door, “you make Prince as well as Pauper -do you homage.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, Sullivan, not I; it’s the Truth that all are -hungry for—Pauper and Prince alike—and while -the few may reach it by meditation and the more -by prayer, the most of common clay like you and -I must reach it by service.”</p> - -<p>“I never quite understand you when you -speak,” he said, “I never could read those dry -old books however much I tried.... But -by the way, I wonder if we have blankets for the -new arrival who just came in.”</p> - -<p>For the Stranded Sons of the City come often -to join our Family and share our simple hospitality.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“Sullivan,” I said one day, “this work is going -to grow and grow.... When we have won -I want you to share the credit with me—you -will remain, will you not?”</p> - -<p>Then receiving no reply, I turned to look and -he had gone—gone to offer his blanket to the new -guest.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I heard him say, “I have some extra -covers on my bed you may have.”</p> - -<p>"Another falsehood. Sullivan, you should al<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>ways -speak the truth." For the nights were cold -and the blankets none too many. And yet since -many prayers are lies, why may not some lies -be prayers? “Maybe in your dark purgatory, -my Irish lad, these little falsehoods of yours will -be counted as prayers.”</p> - -<p>One afternoon a letter came for my friend—in -a young girl’s rather labored writing—he had -received many such, and as I gave it to him I -smiled a little. To him I had always been an indulgent -Father—for a boy and girl will love, even -though he or she may be our favorite child.</p> - -<p>That night when the day’s labor was over, -Sullivan came to me, asking if he could talk to -me. It was a strange request, for he never seemed -to wish to talk, and I knew that something had -moved him deeply.</p> - -<p>“You know my name is not Frank Sullivan,” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” I answered.</p> - -<p>“But did you know I was married?” he inquired.</p> - -<p>“What, a boy like yourself married?” I asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have been married over two years and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -have a little girl a year old. The letters that I -have received have been from my wife Josephine. -She and I ran away and were married, but on -our return her father wouldn’t accept me. He -said I was not worthy of his daughter—and no -doubt he is right. He is wealthy and I could not -support her in the way to which she is accustomed. -So I was forced to leave her. But Josephine -and I couldn’t forget.</p> - -<p>“All these months she has been working to -interest her father in me, and now the baby is a -year old, he has decided to help me.... We—Josephine -and I—knew he would soften in time; -you see he, too, loves Josephine and the Baby. -So I want to go to them.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said simply, for a sense of approaching -loss had robbed me of my pretty speeches.</p> - -<p>“When you met me, I didn’t know where to -go, nor what to do,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“I have flattered myself I have been some help -to you in starting your work. Tell me have I -made good to you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I shall try to make good to Josephine’s father.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>Then in a few moments he said:</p> - -<p>“Now that it is time to go from you, I hate to -leave you and the boys.”</p> - -<p>“But you must go,” I said, “your wife and -child have the first claim.”</p> - -<p>“Josephine wanted me to ask you for two or -three rugs that the boys weave. We want them -for our new home.”</p> - -<p>“You may have them.”</p> - -<p>And I took him by the hand, “Good-by, Sullivan.”</p> - -<p>“Not Sullivan anymore, but McLean,” he replied.</p> - -<p>As he turned away he said half regretfully, “It -is the Passing of Sullivan.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder if Richelieu, after all, lost his Friar -Philip?” I asked myself as I waved my hand in -farewell to him.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_113.jpg" alt="Decorative image with chair" /> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>WHEN SISTER CALLED</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“O Lord, That which I want is first bread—Thy - decree, not my choice, that bread must be - first.”</p> - <p class="quotsig">—Sidney Lanier.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">When Sister Called</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_h_117.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">He</span> came—did Jim—highly -recommended by two fellows -who live by their -wits—one, Lakewood Joe -and the other, Corduroy -Tom. They are my friends, -for they have told me they -were. One of them always -comes to me in the Winter -anxious to get work on a farm; the other with a -few broken umbrellas and a railroad spike for a -hammer, starts out with the Springtime on the -quest of “anything to mend.”</p> - -<p>Umbrella mending was once a reputable calling, -but it has fallen into disrepute since the introduction -of the cheap umbrella. But that pathetic -part of the story should be left for Lakewood Joe -to tell, for it gets him—a humble mechanic—many -a hot cup of coffee, many a dime.</p> - -<p>The recommendation by my two friends was -sufficiently strong to nearly cause me to refuse -admission to young Jim. But his manner pleased -me and our reception committee—made up of -members of the Family—assured me that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -had no need to fear poor Jim. Anyway he who -has nothing can safely make friends with whomever -he chooses.</p> - -<p>Jim told us that years ago he had been a -“cookie”—please note the “ie”—in a lumber -camp in an Eastern State. So when a vacancy -occurred in the culinary department of our home -Jim was selected for the place.</p> - -<p>He proved an excellent assistant and worked -for the house—as the phrase goes—he made the -coffee so weak, he made the potato soup go so -far, that I, economical from habit and from necessity, -would blush whenever one of the boys said -that he enjoyed the good dinner.</p> - -<p>I need have had no fear for it was Jim’s smile -that made us all content with the simple fare.</p> - -<p>“A grand cook,” the boys would say.</p> - -<p>“A grand cook,” Echo and I would answer.</p> - -<p>Jim had roughed it for several years and knew -a little of the ways of the road. He had worked -when a boy in his father’s factory and as some -of the workmen felt they were not being paid -properly—the son joined in with the workmen -and went out on a strike against his father.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> - -<p>In the excitement of the strike the father had -spoken to the son about his joining in with the -strikers. It seemed to the father like disloyalty—ingratitude. -But as for the son, he couldn’t -analyze his own psychological state of mind sufficiently -to explain why his sympathy had been -with the strikers, but feeling himself no longer -welcome at the old home, he started to roam.</p> - -<p>Seven years had passed since he had written -to the old folks. Once or twice he had heard indirectly -of his father’s search for him, but he -could not even bring himself to write, much less -to return.</p> - -<p>He had been with us nearly a month when -finally, one evening, as he saw the other boys -writing letters to their homes he decided he himself -would write a letter to his married sister in -Pennsylvania. When it was written and mailed, -he half regretted what he had done.</p> - -<p>Wasn’t he a wanderer—a young hobo if you -like—and why should he think of home after all -these years, even if the kindly sympathy to be -found at the Colony did recall to him those better -days?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> - -<p>But the letter was already on its way.... -He wondered what his sister might think, how -she might act.... She had always cared for -him.</p> - -<p>The bean soup which he was preparing for -supper burned while he was deep in thought, -and he blamed himself for his absent-mindedness.</p> - -<p>“The boys will have to eat burnt soup just -because I got to feeling sentimental,” he said to -himself.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then a word came that a nicely gowned young -lady was coming up the driveway. There are -many visitors at the Tea Room of the Colony -House so it need have caused no excitement. -But some one whispered “Look at Jim!”</p> - -<p>He had glanced out at the approaching stranger, -and he was pale and trembling. He said to -me in a faint voice, “It’s my sister. Tell her I -left this morning.... Tell her I got a position.”</p> - -<p>And then the bell rang and he said:</p> - -<p>“Wait—I will see her.”</p> - -<p>So brushing his hair and arranging his tie he -went in to meet his sister.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<p>The homeless outcast lad faced his aristocratic -sweet-faced sister! As the boys saw them they -did not know which one to pity the more, although -the sympathy seemed to be pretty largely -with Jim.</p> - -<p>“Is every one well?” the brother asked, trying -to relieve the strain of the situation.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, "but why have you -never written all these years? I got your letter -this morning and left in an hour to get to you for -fear I might lose you again. Father has hunted -for you everywhere. He thinks he was harsh -with you when you struck that day with the -men—for you were only a child.</p> - -<p>“I thought I might get you to come home -with me,” she continued, “my husband and I -have a splendid home. You are always welcome.... -Or why don’t you go back to your old -job with Father. He needs you. He is getting -older.”</p> - -<p>“You think he would take me back?”</p> - -<p>“Gladly. What are you doing here?”</p> - -<p>“I am cook for the boys,” he said.</p> - -<p>“You, a cook?” she smiled. "Why, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -wouldn’t wash a dish at home for me when we -were children. You can’t be very much of a -cook.... But never mind. I have found -you."</p> - -<p>“Confound it! I have let those beans burn -again.” And he excused himself for a moment.</p> - -<p>When he returned he said, “I will write you -if I can decide to go back home. It comes a little -suddenly you know. I have been a prodigal -too long to turn into a father’s white-haired boy -on the instant.”</p> - -<p>Then after a moment he asked: “Do you know -what Mother used to put into the beans when -she burned them to take out the smoky taste?”</p> - -<p>“Jim, Mother wasn’t that kind of a cook.”</p> - -<p>As the sister was going out to step into the -carriage she said, “Promise me you will not -leave here without writing me. I don’t want to -lose you again.”</p> - -<p>“I promise,” he said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That night the boys ate their supper in silence. -Each one was deep in thought.</p> - -<p>“Too bad the beans are burned,” Jim said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I like them that way,” replied one of the -boys. “It makes them taste different.”</p> - -<p>That night after supper no one wrote any letters, -which was unusual, and one of the boys -jokingly asked another near him, “Why don’t -you write a letter home to your sister?”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid,” replied the lad, “she might answer -it in person like Jim’s sister did.”</p> - -<p>Jim has taken a job on a farm and is saving his -money. He has nearly enough to return to his -old home; he refuses to accept any aid from his -father or sister.</p> - -<p>“I will go back as I came away—independently.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_123.jpg" alt="Decorative emblem with people at a door" /> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>EDISON’S EVENING STAR</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“Seek him that maketh the seven stars and - Orion: The Lord is his name.”</p> - <p class="quotsig">—Bible.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">Edison’s Evening Star</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p><em>Hamlet</em>: “Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?”</p> - - <p><em>First Clown</em>: “Why, because he was mad: he shall - recover his wits there; or, if he do not, it’s no great matter - there.”</p> - - <p><em>Hamlet</em>: “Why?”</p> - - <p><em>First Clown</em>: “‘Twill not be seen in him there; there - the men are as mad as he.”</p> - - <p class="quotsig">—<em>Shakespeare.</em></p> -</div> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_t_127.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">To</span> be dull of wit is sadly unfortunate, -but to be dull -of wit and be compelled to -live in a Colony made up -of more or less reckless -young men is doubly unfortunate.</p> - -<p>In the group eccentricities -are quickly discouraged. -The grouch, the crank, the bully, if he -would remain and live in harmony must learn -his lesson in democracy—the individualist is -given short shift.</p> - -<p>Of course the dull of wit should be given immunity -at all times, and in theory he is, but in -real practice even the most gentle hearted man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -will have his little joke at the expense of the man -less alert mentally. The members of the Colony -are no exception to this rule.</p> - -<p>“Tell us more,” the boys asked of the Moon-Struck-One, -one evening after the day’s work -was done, “about the inhabitants of Mars, which -you see in your trances.”</p> - -<p>And then he—the Moon-Struck-One—would -explain in detail the strange people he had seen -in his dreams.</p> - -<p>“These planets,” he told them, “are all being -made ready for the coming race of Man.... -After Cycles and Cycles, we move on to newer -and better worlds.... Each of the mystic -Seven Planets are at the service of the human -race. Time and time again a new world has -borne the burden of the evolving man’s hope and -his despair.... The cosmic scheme is worthy -of the Wondrous God, who holds not only the -Seven Planets in control, but rules the Seven -Universes with their Seven Suns—you laugh, -most men laugh, the churchmen laugh, they do -not know, they have not seen—but I know and -have seen.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How interesting,” said one boy, winking slyly -to his fellows. “I know something of astronomy -myself; my brother was a Princeton graduate.”</p> - -<p>It was a summer’s evening when this conversation -took place and the boys were sitting out -on the lawn enjoying the night air, for the day -had been hot and oppressive.</p> - -<p>“What do any of you know of the Stars?” -said the Moon-Struck-Sage.</p> - -<p>“Very little, but tell us,” said one of the boys, -“for I believe in your visions. I dreamed one -night myself about a big fire—a bad sign as you -very well know—and the next day I got ‘pinched.’”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you are deeply learned in the Stars,” he -said with smiling skepticism, “that is, I suppose -you can tell the difference between a star and a -lantern.”</p> - -<p>“Look out,” said a boy who had not spoken -before, “he is joking you.”</p> - -<p>“No, seriously,” said the Witless One, "when -I said ‘lantern’ I had reference to the light that -Edison hangs out each night when the weather -is clear—you have no doubt read of it. He plans -to construct a light that will illuminate this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -country at night almost as brightly as the sun -lights it by day.... Do you see that light -just above the trees in the East. You can tell it -as it is larger than any stars around it. It has the -appearance of a star only much brighter. Do -you see it?"</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the boys who were all attention, -although one or two were skeptical until one of -the group remembered that he had read about -Edison’s powerful light in the Sunday magazine -supplement of a New York paper.</p> - -<p>“He is a wonderful man,” said another.</p> - -<p>At last all were convinced and the Moon-Struck-One, -satisfied, arose rather abruptly, and -went into the house.</p> - -<p>A few days later he left the Colony to go to -his relatives in a distant city, and so the boys -had no one to play tricks upon, no one who was -not their equal in wit.</p> - -<p>It was some weeks afterwards that one of the -young men said to me as we were talking out of -doors in the evening:</p> - -<p>“There is that light of Edison’s hanging over -the trees.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Where?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“That bright light over there that looks like a -big star. The Witless One told us about it. In -some ways he was really wiser than we gave -him credit for.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the Evening Star,” I said.</p> - -<p>“It is what?” asked another boy.</p> - -<p>“It is Venus, the Evening Star.”</p> - -<p>“He told us it was put up there by Edison.”</p> - -<p>“So it really isn’t an illuminated balloon?”</p> - -<p>The boys looked from one to the other, then -every one laughed loudly and long.</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t the Bible say, ‘Answer a fool according -to his folly?’” asked a boy.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and it also says, ‘Answer not a fool according -to his folly, lest thou also be like unto -him.’”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i_131.jpg" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>IN THE WORLD OF WANDERLUST</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“To stand in true relations with men in a false - age, is worth a fit of insanity, is it not?”</p> - - <p class="quotsig"> - —Emerson.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">In the World of Wanderlust</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_t_135.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> Spirit of the Wanderlust -seizes all the World -in the early days of Spring—the -so-called hobo takes -to the open road, the millionaire -to his country -home, each rejoices that -the long imprisonment of -winter is passed, for all -men are akin in their love of freedom. It is a -search for the ideal. With De Soto we would -say, “Somewhere, if ye seek untiringly, ye shall -discover and drinke of ye Fountaine of Youth and -Happiness.”</p> - -<p>“Men have said they do not understand my -restless wanderings,” remarked Lakewood Tom. -"Can it be they have never watched the coming -of the first robin, and do not know that he ushers -in the new regime of promise and prosperity?</p> - -<p>"Other men may linger in the failing twilight of -the tired day. I go to greet the rising sun. Even -the very birds—little hoboes of the air, break<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -camp cheerfully in early May. Like them I, too, -take to the open road and walk by faith.</p> - -<p>"But you, my lords, with your worldly goods, -are vagabonds no less than I. Out of the inexhaustible -larder of the Divine, God gives you—as -it were—a crust of bread, and men call you mighty -in riches. Take a vagabond’s advice, and put your -mark upon the house where you found favor, lest -after many years, disheartened, you pass that way -again and need another ‘handout’—maybe not a -crust of bread, but, a more lasting gift—an ideal -perchance, that may not fail so soon. Sometimes -methinks it sad, there is given to man only the -thing for which he asks.</p> - -<p>“Adieu,” said Lakewood Tom, taking up his -staff, “when the snow falls next year I may visit -your Monastery again with your permission, if by -happy chance I am on this earth. If not, I’ll meet -you some Christmas day on the planet Mars, for -I never forget a friend. Good cheer! Adieu.”</p> - -<p>“Much privation has crazed the old man,” said -a comrade who, with me, watched the old vagabond -walking slowly down the drive.</p> - -<p>“I do not know,” I said.</p> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - <h2>THE TWO JEANS</h2> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - <p class="ph3">“To every man there come noble thoughts - that pass across his heart like great white - birds.”</p> - <p class="quotsig">—Maeterlinck.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph2">The Two Jeans</p> - - -<div> - <img class="drop-cap" src="images/drop_i_139.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“It</span> is always hard times on -the Bowery,” my diminutive -informant told me. -He was a new comer to -our Colony. He, in company -with another young -man, had made his appearance -an hour or two before, -but I had not been able to -talk with him, except to assure him that he and -his friend might remain with us one night, at -least. “Yes, sir,” he continued, “without money -a man is a dead one; even in this strange haunt of -stranger men money is a daily need. Of course, -some men who know the hidden ways can get -along on as little as twenty cents a day, or less, -but for myself I could not exist on less than -thirty-five cents.”</p> - -<p>The figures he mentioned seemed modest -enough to me. “Couldn’t you earn that much?” -I asked him.</p> - -<p>“I am so small no one would hire me,” he replied. -"I could get errands to do now and then. -Of course, while my mother lived she kept a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -home for me, but after she died I did not know -what to do. I only sat in the house day after -day and looked out of the window. I could not -make any plans for myself. You see when I was -a baby I fell and injured my back. I didn’t grow -much more after that accident. The doctors called -it a curvature."</p> - -<p>He laughed easily as he asked me, "You know -the poem of James Whitcomb Riley,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">‘I’m th’ust a little cripple boy</div> - <div class="verse indent2">An’ never going to grow,</div> - <div class="verse">An’ git a great big man at all,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">‘Cause auntie told me so.’</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>“I rather think I’m that boy. One time I -chanced to find that poem and read it to my -mother. She took the book from me in the gentle -way she had, and then putting her arms around -me, told me to be a good boy and everything -would come out all right. But they never did -come all right. Maybe I was not good enough; -but this can’t interest you. You hear enough hard -luck stories without mine.”</p> - -<p>“If you wish to tell me,” I said, “I shall be -quite glad to listen.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s only this,” he continued. "Left to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -myself, I wasn’t smart enough to make a living. -I can’t get my room rent and my lunch money -all at the same time. If I have my lunches I have no -room, and if I have a room I have nothing to eat."</p> - -<p>He grew very serious. He could laugh at his -misshapen back, make a jest at his deformity, but -hunger—even at the thought of hunger—the -smile left his face, the color fled from his lips.</p> - -<p>“Are you faint?” I asked him quickly.</p> - -<p>“No, I am a coward,” he said, “just a plain -coward. You see, I am beaten and I know it.”</p> - -<p>“You will be all right in a few days,” I said, -“and be able to criticise the food as cheerfully as -any other member of my Family.” I laughed -gayly enough, but he did not laugh with me. -“Have you and this boy been friends a long -time? Where did you meet him?” I inquired.</p> - -<p>“In the park, some weeks ago. He has no -home either. He was sleeping out and so was I. -He gave me part of a newspaper to put under -me, as the ground was damp. So I tried to talk -to him.... He is good looking, isn’t he?”</p> - -<p>I admitted it.</p> - -<p>“Well, he’s a Russian dummy,” said the boy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - -<p>“He is what?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“He just landed from Russia three months -ago, and he knows very little about the English -language. He doesn’t have the slightest idea -what I have been talking to you about all this -time. Night after night, not having any bed to -sleep in, he has ‘flopped’ in the park or ‘carried -the banner’ until morning.”</p> - -<p>“So you brought him out with you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; I didn’t know whether you would take -us in or not. I thought I would take him along -on the theory that the ground in Jersey is no -harder to sleep on than it is in New York State. -If you have to turn us away we will not be any -worse off than we have been.”</p> - -<p>“We will make room somehow for you and -your friend,” I told him.</p> - -<p>So Jean—Little Jean, the boys called him—went -through a pantomime for the enlightenment -of the Russian youth whose name was also Jean. -Finally the larger boy understood that I had -given them permission to remain, for he turned -to me and said simply: “Nice,” and then he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -bowed gracefully. Little Jean was right—Big -Jean was good looking.</p> - -<p>“I wish I was big and strong like him,” said -Little Jean, admiringly....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>... The weeks pass quickly when one has -his work to do, and the two Jeans grew to know -the Colony. Big Jean spent his spare hours -studying English and talking with the other boys. -Little Jean made friends with the chickens, the -pigs, the cow and the horse, while Boozer—the -Colony dog—and he were inseparable chums.</p> - -<p>“Boozer,” Little Jean told me, “knows the heart -of outcast boys and men. He meets the new -arrivals at the gate and escorts them to the -house. He may challenge the lawless approach -of the rich man in his auto, and warn the household -of possible danger impending, but the most -unkempt ‘knight of the road’ will find Boozer -quick to make friends with him.”</p> - -<p>Big Jean—with his pleasing bow—looked after -the guests who visited the Tea Room, for he -learned to speak English rapidly. The report of -his courteous service came to the ears of a wide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -awake Jap who needed him to help him in his -hotel. So one day he sent for the Russian lad.</p> - -<p>At the start the pay was to be twenty dollars -a month, with room, board and extra tips.</p> - -<p>“You need me in your Tea Room, Mr. Floyd,” -he said, “I am willing to stay.”</p> - -<p>“No, Jean, you must take the position and -prove to me and to yourself that you can make -good.”</p> - -<p>That night he wrote to his aged mother in -Russia that there were wonderful opportunities -for young men in America.</p> - -<p>When he had gone I hunted to find Little Jean. -I found him out on the lawn with his chum, -Boozer. He did not see me as I approached, but -as I looked at him the thought came to me that -he had suddenly grown old, and there was the -anxious look upon his face—the same that I had -seen when he had talked to me the first time.</p> - -<p>“Boozer,” I heard him say, “it’s all right; I -am a coward, I’m beaten and I know it, but I’m -glad Big Jean got the job—honestly, Boozer, I -am—you see it isn’t all my fault—he’s so damned -good looking.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> - -<p>Boozer put his face close to that of Little Jean -and held out his paw to the discouraged boy. -You see when you live your life at the Self Masters -you sense the inner thought of broken men. -Boozer—who knows no other life—understands -the heart of the discouraged. I did not interrupt -the two friends, but turned back to the house.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>“What can you ever do to help poor Little -Jean?” a visitor asked me. “There seems to be -no position in the world for him. What can you -do for him?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see much chance,” I replied, distrusting -for the moment that Divine Guidance that -never fails.</p> - -<p>It was only two days after Big Jean had left us -that a kindly old lady called at the Colony. She -wanted a boy who would take good care of her -horses, and drive her and her husband back and -forth from her home to the railway station. “I -want a boy who loves animals,” she said.</p> - -<p>So Little Jean has his place in the world—like -you and I if we can only find it....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>... Xmas Day Big Jean brought four big pies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -which he had cooked especially for the Self Masters’ -dinner.</p> - -<p>And Little Jean brought his Xmas present—all -neatly tied up in a box bedecked with pink ribbons—a -pound of meat for Boozer.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_146.jpg" alt="Decorative emblem with monk and dog" /> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_148.jpg" alt="Logo" /> - <div class="caption"><p>Self Master Print.</p> - - <p>Union, Union Co. New Jersey.</p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter covers"> - <img src="images/i_back_cover.jpg" height="700" alt="back cover" /> -</div> - - -<div class="transnote mt2"><h3>Transcriber’s Notes:</h3> - <p>Obvious printing errors repaired</p> - <p>Alternate and idiosyncratic spellings retained as printed</p> - <p>(Example: p. 49: Retained archaic spelling of sacrefice as printed)</p> - <p>Retained inconsistent hyphenation as printed</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Monks of Vagabondia, by Andress Floyd - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MONKS OF VAGABONDIA *** - -***** This file should be named 51004-h.htm or 51004-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/0/51004/ - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Christopher Wright and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: My Monks of Vagabondia - -Author: Andress Floyd - -Release Date: January 22, 2016 [EBook #51004] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MONKS OF VAGABONDIA *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Christopher Wright and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - -"And this is liberty--that one grow after the law of his own life, -hindering not another." - - - - -[Illustration: Title Page] - - _My Monks of Vagabondia._ - - _Andress Floyd_ - - Copyright 1913 - By Andress Floyd - - - - - TO MY WIFE - LILLIAN BLANCHE FLOYD - WHOSE DEVOTION AND INSPIRATION - MADE POSSIBLE - THE SELF MASTER COLONY - - - - -Introductory - - -My Monks of Vagabondia comprises Fact-stories selected from the old -files of the Self Master Magazine. I wish to present the defeated man, -as he really is, to the reader who cannot fail to appreciate the humor -and tragedy that makes up his wayward life. The bond of sympathy should -be awakened between us and the so-called prodigal. - -A wider publicity should be given to the unique but practical uplift -work that I have founded and carried on for the past five years among -these weaker brothers. - -The stories explain in part the methods and plans of the Family of Self -Masters. - -It is--we believe--the only book in which a writer has received his -facts for his stories direct from a life-experience with outcast men. - -Not alone that, but the volume is printed, bound and illustrated by the -unexpected guests--the Itinerant Monks of whom the tales are told, and -who make their home in our so-called Monastery. - -The day approaches when broken men shall have beautiful, though simple, -homes of their own making, modeled after the group idea of The Self -Master Colony. They will be established outside of the different cities -of the world, and opened hospitably to all men who come in their -hour of need or weakness, seeking Self Mastery and the peace that -accompanies it. - -The proceeds from the sale of these stories go toward the purchase and -installation of much needed equipment for the Printshop and Bindery. -With this equipment the men can work out their own independence, -industrially and socially. - -When a man has lived months and years enslaved by some vicious -habit--self-destructive and careless of consequences--his sub-conscious -mind is a sensitive matrix on which the sordid history is deeply -engraved. The certain change can come only as the man learns values and -respects them by a right life. - -The sub-conscious self takes on a complete reformation slowly. An evil -habit does not gain mastery over the man upon the instant nor once in -control is its grip broken by any feeble affirmation or miraculous -phenomenon. - -The hope comes when one turns one's thought from the destructive to -the constructive, and lives in the sight of the new born faith until -wisdom lifts the darkened veil and freedom follows as its rightful -legacy. - -The Self Master Colony offers an open door to the disheartened man -during the period of his awakening to his real strength and helps him -with its constant care and sympathy back to his true self. - - ANDRESS FLOYD. - - - - -CONTENTS -Introductory 13 -A Journey to our Monastery 17 -Mary and the Baby 25 -My Problem with Slippery Jim. 37 -Our Friend, The Anarchist 55 -A Bashful Beggar 69 -Fritz and His Sun Dial 75 -The Waiter Who Did Not Wait. 87 -Compounding a Felony 95 -The Passing of Sullivan 105 -When Sister Called 115 -Edison's Evening Star 125 -In the World of Wanderlust 133 -The Two Jeans 137 - - - - -A JOURNEY TO OUR MONASTERY - - - If any pilgrim monk come from distant parts to dwell with us, and - will be content with the customs which he finds in the place, and do - not perchance by his lavishness disturb the Monastery, he shall be - received. - - --_Saint Benedict._ - - - - -A Journey to our Monastery - - -The man had walked the entire distance from New York to the Self Master -Family. In truth, he had walked more than the entire distance, for -once or twice he had lost his way--as many a man has done in other -walks of Life. Painfully he had retraced his steps to the right road. -The mistakes had told heavily upon his failing strength. They had -made him just that much more weary with it all. No doubt mistakes are -wonderfully educational; they make men wiser, and therefore better, for -in the final analysis wisdom and goodness are synonymous. - -He complained bitterly at the hardness of his lot and found little -comfort in the thought that he might reach the Colony too late for the -evening meal. - -His friend who had met him walking aimlessly up and down Broadway -assured him that there was always a coffee pot boiling on the -old-fashioned cook stove in the boys' kitchen--that the Colony House -never locked its doors. - -To a man who feels that every door in the world is locked against him -there is comfort in the thought that there is really one place where -he may find a welcome. His friend had said that there would be no -questions asked him on his arrival--no investigation. - -"No investigation," he muttered aloud, "thank God! It is easier -for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a -'down-and-out' man to convince Professional Charity that he is really -hungry. I think they would have given me a 'hand-out' when they -investigated me the last time if I could have told them what town my -mother was born in." - -He smiled with weak cynicism at the folly of his thoughts, and then -became suddenly serious, for on the side hill in front of a large -colonial house, worked out in white stone, were the words "The Self -Masters." He stopped and studied the quiet, home-like scene from the -road. All these weary miles he had come to ask food and shelter, and -now his courage seemed to fail him. He sat down by the road side and -leisurely took his pipe from his pocket. Then he prepared tobacco with -the utmost care, filled the pipe and lighted it. - - "THE SELF MASTERS" - -he spelled out the letters on the sign; "What the h--ll is that?--Self -Master--Self Mastery--Self Control. Old Man, if you had ever had any -of that Self Control in your make-up you would not be a Knight of the -Dusty Road!... You had better go back to the East Side where you know -the land; where no man cares whether you live decently or not--if you -can buy." - -Then the sound of a piano and male voices came to him and awakened -him to a new train of thought. "It is a Monastery--a Monastery of -Vagabondia," he said, "and why not? why shouldn't a man, even a -homeless man, have his Monastery, if you please, where he can forget -his past and live cleanly? If he only lives cleanly for a day and -falls.... It's something to remember--a day he doesn't have to be -ashamed of. Who knows but that in the one day of unselfish living a man -is more truly his real self than he is in all the other days of his -vicious years. - -"Throughout his long life Moses was the leader of his people, but -it was in that day that he talked with God--face to face--that his -countenance did shine like the sun. It was not when he slew the -Egyptian, and, frightened, buried him in the sand; it was when he stood -in the presence of Divinity--that Moses was Moses. When the drunkard is -in his sober mind, when the liar is speaking the truth, when the thief -is giving honest measure, when the murderer is kind to his fellow, -then, and only then, is the true Self finding expression." - -He drew heavily at his pipe and then smilingly said, "My pipe has gone -out!" He knocked out the ashes into his hand and scattered them to the -wind, gravely, as if it were some religious ceremony. Then he dusted -his shoes and clothes, and straightening himself up to his full height, -he marched bravely up to the front door of the house.... - -... A black crow, belated in his home-going, left his corn-thieving, -and, rising, flew across the sky to his eyrie in the pines. - -[Illustration] - - - - -MARY AND THE BABY - - -"And a little child shall lead them." - - --_Isaiah._ - - - - -Mary and the Baby - - -"Resolved, that old-fashioned cow's milk is better for Our Baby, than -any prepared food." - -The debate on the above subject will start at seven o'clock next -Thursday evening. The Conservatives of our Colony will speak in favor -of cow's milk as a baby's food. The Progressives will speak in favor of -prepared food. - -The parliamentary rules governing the debate will be the same as govern -a "catch-as-catch-can" wrestling match. - -No slugging will be permitted until forensic effort has proven -ineffective. When further argument has become useless, the three-ounce -boxing gloves, recently donated to us, may be used to force a decision. -In fact, several of the boys who talk but little, are practising with -the gloves, so that they may become factors in the final settlement of -the problem. - -On the other hand, the literary coterie is in deep study. One boy is -reading up reference books on the subject whenever he can find the -time. Still another blindfolds himself and opens the Bible at random, -looking for spiritual guidance on the subject of infant diet. Of course -the Court of Final Appeal will be Her Ladyship--The Baby Herself. - -She already knows a great deal about crackers and breakfast foods, -and she is far too clever not to have her own opinion on the dietary -properties of milk and its substitutes. - - * * * * * - -And now it may be in point to tell how we came to have a ten-months-old -baby at our Colony. - -We are ostensibly a young men's colony--men and boys trying to get to -their feet and become independent and self-supporting. But if anyone -comes to us hungry, we like to give them something more edible than a -card to a professional charity. - -Had Hunger delayed her coming another week, Our Baby and her mother -might have been driven to ask food and shelter on Christmas Eve. As it -was, they came to us on December 19th, at ten o'clock in the evening. -They had no place in which to sleep except the local police station, -and that is not the place for a little baby--even strong men weaken in -the chill of its hospitality. - -So, on their arrival, the boys who were retiring for the night, held -a conference. Our supply of beds and bedding did not even equal the -demand made upon it by the boys themselves. But that did not cause them -to hesitate, and all agreed that they must not turn the newcomers away. -One boy immediately gave up his blanket, the second his comforter, the -third his bed. In that way the mother and baby were made comfortable -for the night, little realizing that they were taking anything away -from those who had nothing to spare. But homeless men are quickly -sympathetic, for what they know of hunger and cold is not altogether -hearsay. - -On the next day we undertook to make more permanent provision for the -Baby and Mary, her mother. We began to look around for beds. We asked -two of the kind-hearted clergymen if they could obtain a bed for our -new arrivals. One of them phoned me later in the day to ask me what -town the poor people were from, and when I informed him, he said "The -woman should have applied to the charity association of the city from -which they came. If the case was worthy, aid would be given." - -Worthy or unworthy, we didn't feel like sending the Baby away. She was -teething and fretful, and a teething, fretful baby may not be as worthy -as one who grins and bears it. - -The other minister said, "The wonderful work the Church was doing, had -not so much to do with the poor in this life, as in the hereafter." Now -in truth, while the mother was discouraged and didn't care anything -about life as far as she herself was concerned, she had ambition for -her child, so she could not qualify and ask assistance under these -conditions. - -The boys themselves made two wooden beds, and fitted up a room for the -Baby, while the mother in turn helped the young men in the kitchen. - -The Baby has grown strong and well. She likes her big brothers with -all their noise and horseplay, and they like their Baby. To see rough -homeless men sing lullabies to an infant-in-arms, congratulating -themselves when she falls asleep soothed by the monotonous humming of -some cradle song that they themselves thought they had forgotten long -ago, might renew one's faith in the kindly humanity that lives in every -heart. - -Has not Christ said, "And whosoever shall receive one such little child -in my name, receiveth me." - - -THE BABY'S FATHER - -Now, this Baby has a father. He has lived in Russia and came to America -to earn money. One of his older brothers was already located in New -York State, and from his letters sent over the sea, it was plain that -the opportunities for wealth in the States were most promising. - -The older brother had grown rich--very rich--working on the railroad. -He never earned less than nine dollars a week, and now that he spoke -English, he earned twelve. - -Such stories of easily acquired wealth lured John, as we call him, to -leave his Fatherland with his wife and child. But unfortunately for -John and his family, they reached America during the recent panic. -Thousands of workmen were idle. In New York, John could find no work. -Even the rich brother only worked part of the time, and having wife -and children of his own, had nothing to divide with John and his -family. So John drifted away seeking employment. - -The few dollars that he brought with him became exhausted, and although -he studied English evenings, he spoke it brokenly. One of the boys at -the Colony said he talked in "kindlewood." - -While he was seeking employment, no word came to the wife and child. -Some said John would never come back. But Mary believed in him. She -said that he had always loved the baby and he knew that she herself -could work. But at times even she doubted when weeks followed weeks and -no word came. - -Once when one of the boys was going to New York, she called him aside -quietly, and said, "You will see John in New York, I think.... Big man, -light hair ... tell him come home, see Baby.... I want him." - -But John was not seen in New York. - -It was not until a few days ago that he returned. He had traveled -through New York State and on to Massachusetts. No work--everywhere no -work! Sometimes he had walked. Sometimes he had jumped a freight. All -to no purpose. He had wanted to write good news to Mary, and he had no -good news to write. Always bad news. He was a failure. He had wished he -might end it all, but the thought of the Baby had made him continue the -search for employment. - -Finally, one day, a rich man in Montclair needed a gardener. This -man was rich--not rich like his brother--but had houses and acres of -splendid farm. He would pay two dollars a day wages to a man willing to -work. It seemed too good to believe. He would hurry back to his Baby -and Mary. They must know the good news. - -So he came and told Mary he had a job, and a little home for her and -the Baby. They would be rich like his brother. - -So Mary went with John and they took their Baby, all tied up in shawls. - -That was yesterday--Monday--so there will be no argument Thursday on -"Whether or not old-fashioned cow's milk is better for babies than -prepared foods." - -Because we homeless men have lost Our Baby. - -One of the boys asked the Chairman--another boy--if they would have -the Debate, now that the Baby was gone? - -"To hell with it," replied the Presiding Officer. - - * * * * * - -The above is a true story, and to The Self Master Colony, all a part of -the day's work. - -[Illustration] - - - - -MY PROBLEM WITH SLIPPERY JIM - - -"When a boy goes to prison, a citizen dies." - - --_Jacob Riis_ - - - - -My Problem with Slippery Jim. - - -"My razor went yesterday for a beef stew," the young dare-devil told -me. "Not that I am one of those collar-and-necktie-rounders," he -continued, "who seek to give out the impression that they are gentlemen -in distress, telling you of their Southern family and a squandered -fortune when, in fact, they have never been further South than Coney -Island.... But when a fellow decides to sell his razor he is about to -commit an act that severs the jugular vein of his respectability. - -"He may have, only the moment before, shaven and groomed himself -with the utmost care, still he is nearly ready to join the ranks of -the down-and-outs. A man may sell his other belongings--his clothes -included--and yet preserve a suggestion at least of his _sang-froid_. -But when the razor goes--" - -"Then he can get a free shave at the Barbers' School," I suggested. - -"That only helps for a day or two," he went on. "Better throw up your -hands at once and have it over. What man half ill with worry cares to -listen to some ambitious pupil say, 'Teacher, shall I shave the right -side of his face up, or shave it down?'--and, 'Teacher, how do you -shave the upper lip without cutting it?' and, 'Teacher, if I do cut it, -shall I disinfect it with carbolic or peroxide before I put on the new -skin?'--No Barbers' School for me. It is better to turn philosopher on -the instant--the old philosophers and prophets grew long beards.... -Talk about getting next to Nature in about three days after a man -has sold his razor, Nature will get next to him, and if he is not as -beardless as an American Indian, he will be convinced when he sees -himself in a mirror, of the truth of the Darwinian theory." - -"In Russia," I said, "the beard is the patriarch's badge of sanctity." - -"So it is in Jersey and several other States," he replied. "Many -a so-called hobo with two weeks' growth of beard on his face may -be at heart only a conscientious respecter of the law--for it is a -misdemeanor in New Jersey to carry a razor. It is legally declared to -be a concealed weapon. Many a poor rascal against whom a charge of -vagrancy could not be maintained has found it so much the worse for -him, and has been forced to go to prison for carrying concealed weapons -in the form of a razor. So you see in Jersey, as well as in Russia, a -beard may be only proof of honor.... The cleanly shaven man who knocks -at your side door and wins the unsuspecting wife's confidence with that -time-worn platitude of Vagabondia, 'Lady, all I want is work,' may -have a weapon concealed upon his person, while the unshaven wanderer, -the sight of whom makes the women folks bolt doors, may be a homeless -fellow who really wants work, and would rather be unkempt in appearance -than chance a prison-term for carrying a razor." - -"So you have sold your razor?" I asked. - -"Not because I am trying to compete with your Russian patriarch in -sanctity. I sold it because I'm desperate." - -"Then you were not afraid of the misdemeanor charge?" - -He replied with a laugh that I did not like, and I felt quickly to see -if my watch was still in my possession. - -"I don't want your watch," he said, "but it isn't the fear of doing -time that holds me back. I know what my friend wrote about me. I have -made up my mind to play square. You may not believe it. You have heard -too many mission testimonies to believe much in them. But if I live -right--it isn't because my heart is softened, my heart is cold and hard -as a paving block." - -"Your friend wrote that you weren't such a bad fellow." - -"Don't believe him. In Elmira they have a scheme of percentage, and if -a man gets above a certain percent he can win his freedom. In the four -years I was there I was safely within the required percentage--all I -had to do was to continue my good behavior. I was within a few days of -freedom. Did you ever sense hatred--pure hatred? Shylock felt it when -he refused to accept money to cancel Antonio's bond; when he would not -listen to threats or entreaties, but only muttered, 'I'll have my pound -of carrion flesh.' I know what he felt. In the night, after weeks and -weeks of patient study and labor--after months of good conduct, when I -played their game and won the chance of freedom. In the night, without -reason, I jumped from my bed and battered at the bars and yelled and -cursed at them all, until they put me in the dungeon and took from me -my high percent. I lost a year that time." - -"Do the prison bars still hold you," I asked him. - -"What do you mean?" - -"You act like a mad man when you talk of the past. Some men can never -throw off the thought of their imprisonment. It rules their life. They -think only of prison and the crimes that follow such thinking. There is -no hope for them. Can't you see it is your ideals that enslave or make -you free? Can't you see you are free?" - -"It's mighty hard," he said, "but I want to forget. My friend sent me -to you. He said you knew the path to freedom, and would help me. Days -and days I have waited for you to come to me. My father would not have -me at home, my friends left me, my money grew less and less--my clothes -went, my razor--everything. And still you did not come. Sometimes I'd -meet a boy that told me of your work. Sometimes I would doubt all I had -heard, and then I would become indifferent--mutter a prayer or plan a -crime. At last the letter came. I knew I was being put to the test, and -I sought to be firm. Oh, God, such a test! What is it holds a man? I -was hungry, yet I knew how to steal; I needed money, and I knew where -I could rob with reasonable safety. What is it holds a man like me? At -times I have thought it was my belief in you." - -"You mean our Colony held out a hope to you." - -"Yes," he said. - -"I am afraid to take you into my Family," I told him. - -"For fear I'll steal from you?" he said, coldly. - -"No, not that; I fear you cannot leave your prison thoughts behind you -when you enter the Colony." - -"If you help me," he said, thoughtfully, "I think I can begin anew." - -"Will you promise never to speak to me or anyone of your past life?" - -"I will not speak of it again." - -"Then you may go to the entrance gate with me, and there I will decide -if I can take you in." - -We talked on the way to the farm about many things--for he had read and -traveled much. We made no mention of the Family or its work, but as we -came near the Colony House I stopped. - -"Tell me," I said, "did they teach you a trade at Elmira?" - -"I'm a metal roofer by trade," he said. - -"Did you learn the trade in prison?" I asked him. - -"I think you mistake me for some other man," he replied, quietly. "I -know nothing about prison life." - -"What do you mean, not only your friend told me that you had served a -term, but you told me yourself?" I said, severely. - -He looked calmly into my face, but there were tears in his eyes. - -"I could not have told you, for had I told you such a foolish falsehood -I would have remembered it. Let us talk of something else." - -"Very good," I said, pleasantly. He was trying to forget the past. - -At that moment there came to us the vigorous clamor of an old cow bell. - -"It is the bell that calls the boys to their evening meal." - -"Yes?" - -"Come, let us hurry, so we may be served at the first table, for you -are hungry." - - -II - -The holy Vedas teach us that as we pass from life to life, Time places -gentle fingers over the eyes of memory, lest we become disheartened by -past errors and falter enslaved by the fears of what we have been. Like -the child who, having worked out a problem on his slate, erases it all, -keeping only the answer, so we have within our soul-life the result of -our past experiences; all the rest is erased. - -Who cares about the detailed account of all the happenings along the -path we have traveled? We know intuitively that much of the past must -be condemned, but that which concerns us vitally is the life we aim to -live to-day. - -Night closes on the sorrows of yesterday. Dawn is radiant with the -promise of a better day. - -Our friend, "Slippery Jim," tried to believe all this, and to look with -hope towards the future, but he kept much to himself. He would take -long walks into the woods. - -It disturbed me to see him so slow to take the boys into his confidence. - -"I never see you reading with the other men in the evening," I told -him. "Men who love solitude are either very good or very bad." - -"I will try to do better," he answered, "but for so many years I have -been used to being by myself." - -"Still one has to live in the world--and our world here is rather -small," I said. "Cheerfulness is a duty one owes to his own soul." - -"And to others," he added. - -"Yes, and to others," I replied. - -"I am inclined to view lightly my duty to others. I owed a debt--a -great debt once--to others, and I have paid it. They measured it out of -my life, the payment they demanded. I have paid it--paid it in tears -and wretchedness--paid it out of my heart and soul. Now I prefer to -live apart.... The Indians, so the poet says, when on the march, leave -their old and sick alone to die. I am a sick savage, and as such, I ask -my rights." - -"Do you believe in the Great Spirit and the Happy Hunting Grounds?" I -asked gently, for I knew he had no Indian blood in his veins. - -"Their religion is as good as many another, and quite as poetical." - -"Then go into the forest and pray to your Great Spirit," I said. "Only -don't discredit him by being inconsiderate of others who would be kind -to you." - -"Do I not do my work?" he asked, with rising anger. - -"You are expected to do your work, but I am not speaking to you on that -subject. I want to know what you are thinking about while you are at -work." - -"If you please, that is my own affair." - -"If you please, it is my affair also. You came out here to have me help -you. I want to help you." - -"You have helped me; you took me into this Colony when my father had -closed the door on me; you have given me food--such as it is--and out -of the clothes sent in you have given me this second-hand suit." - -"And you have worked like the other men and paid by your labor for what -you received?" - -"Yes." - -"And that is all there is to it?" - -"Yes." - -"It is very, very little I have done for you," and I started to leave -him. - -"Wait a moment"--he stopped me. "I did not intend to be unkind to you. -You have treated me much better than I have deserved." - -"It is something to have even simple food when one is hungry," I said, -severely. "You have also more courage than when you came. In your work -you know courage is quite important. You will soon be able to go back -to your old life." - -"No, not that," his voice becoming less hardened. "In these days I have -lived with you and observed the happiness you get out of your work--in -spite of its sacrefice--and compared it with my own way of living, I -can not understand how I could have ignored the good there's in me. -But, really, you should not expect us all to be as cheerful as you are. -You may see clearly the Truth that we see only through a glass darkly." - -"So you plan to live like an honest man?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Then I have not really lost after all," I said, thoughtfully. - -"What did you say?" he questioned, not having heard clearly my remark. - -"I said that if you have determined to live honestly, that is -something." - -That evening I saw him walking up and down the kitchen floor with our -Baby in his arms--for that Winter we had a homeless mother and Baby at -the Colony. The Baby was kicking and laughing as he carried her with -measured stride around the room. - -"I simply must put her to sleep," he said, confidingly. - -"Why don't you sing to her," I suggested. - -"I am hazy on my slumber songs," he said. - -A little later the Baby was nodding with half closed eyes. - -"Doesn't she look pretty," said the admiring mother. - -"She looks like Jeffries at the end of the fifth," was Jim's reply. - -A few moments later I heard him as he walked, singing music of his own -improvising to the words of Wilde's prison poem: - - "With slouch and swing around the ring, - We trod the Fools' Parade! - We did not care; we knew we were - The Devil's Own Brigade; - And shaven head and feet of lead - Make a merry masquerade." - - -III - -The Winter was nearly over when "Slippery Jim" came to me and expressed -a wish to return to the World again. If his father would only accept -him once more! - -My observation of a father's attitude towards his prodigal son is that -the moment the son desires to live as he ought, not only do closed -doors open, but the father stands ready with outstretched arms to -receive him. This supposedly harsh father, when he was convinced that -his Jim had worked faithfully at the Colony for several months, was -anxious that his son return home. Even the boy's old employer expressed -sympathy and offered a position to him. - -When this good news came I did not have to tell the boy anything about -its being one's duty to be cheerful. He wanted to dance a clog on the -table in the men's reading room. - -Early the next morning he left us, not waiting to thank us, which was -quite unnecessary; nor hardly stopping to say good-bye to us. But a -few days afterward he wrote to me, saying that after four years he was -back with his father and mother, brother and sisters, in his own room, -sleeping in his own bed. The family had arranged it just the same as it -had been before he left them for those sad years in prison. His father -had purchased him a new suit for Easter. The next day he was to start -to work. - -Nearly a year later he visited me. His work had taken him out of town. -"When I first met you," he said. "I didn't have a home. Now it is a -question which one to visit first, but I thought I would come out to -see you, and then go this evening and see my other father." - -[Illustration] - - - - -OUR FRIEND, THE ANARCHIST. - - - - -As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. - - --_Bible._ - - - - -Our Friend, The Anarchist - - -He said that he came from Germany, but he didn't look it, for Germany -is a beautiful country, and he was far removed from even a suggestion -of beauty. Had he said he had just arrived from "No Man's Land," it -would have been easily accredited. For a German, even his accent and -grammatical construction were unsatisfactory. He did not begin his -sentences in the middle and talk both ways at once, after the well -established custom of Americanized Teutons. In the stress of his -excitement he expressed himself concisely and clearly. - -He was seated in the Charity House awaiting the investigation of the -social workers. He held his head in his hands, while his body convulsed -frequently, and tears were in his eyes. - -To see a man with unkempt whiskers indulging in a crying spell like a -delicate woman, is almost as humorous as it is pathetic, unless one -knows what the man is crying about. Then, too, the Germans, unlike -the Irish, take their trouble seriously, so that their despair often -creates for them the hell they fear. - -Surely it wasn't a German who in the old Bible days sent hired mourners -to go about the street; it was undoubtedly an Irishman whose genius -conceived the idea of paying other men to do his weeping for him. - -"Where are you from?" I asked the German. - -He surveyed me suspiciously from head to foot, then replied politely -enough: "I am of German parentage and have lived the greater part of my -life in Heidelberg, where my father and grandfather were instructors in -the University." - -"When did you arrive in America?" I asked him. - -"A few days ago," he answered. "I came from Paris, where I met with -heavy--heavy for me--financial reverses. I attempted to conduct a -business similar to your brokers, who loan money on personal property, -but being unfamiliar with French law, I found I could not legally -enforce payments of the loans I made to the Frenchmen. My entire life -savings--small, it is true--were lost. In disgust I came to America, -and my condition now is worse than ever. I am desperate." - -He did not raise his voice, speaking quietly, but his hands were -nervous, and his eyes reminded me of Svengali--fascinating, but -dangerous. My impression was that I had seen safer men locked in -darkened cells and allowed only wooden spoons with which to eat. - -"Has the charity association decided to help you?" I asked. - -"I fear not," he replied. "They wish me to tell them my father's -address in Germany, as they inform me that they always make thorough -investigations. Several times they asked me my home address, but I -turned them from the point, as I have no intention of adding my burdens -to the burdens my father and mother already have.... Does it seem quite -generous of your social workers to be so insistent?... But, pardon me, -have you not a saying that 'Beggars must not be choosers?'" - -I did not reply to his question, as I was thinking what my Reception -Committee--made up of the boys of the Colony--would say to me if I -invited this much-bewhiskered individual to join our Family. For the -instant I forgot the German's troubles in the thought of the troubles -which I was about to take upon myself. I smiled at my approaching -embarrassment. "It is all very well," the boys had cautioned me, "to -hold us responsible for the newly-arrived members, to make certain that -no criminal nor fraud obtains admission to the Family, but you might be -a little more discriminating in your selections, could you not?" - - * * * * * - -The German was quick to avail himself of my offer to join the Colony; -he would go to Hoboken and get his luggage and join me as soon as -possible. His luggage--he met me an hour later--consisted of a wooden -box too small to be called a trunk, too large to be called a valise. - -As we approached the Colony House we passed several of the boys who had -evidently seen us at a distance, for they appeared deeply interested -in the setting sun, their faces turned from us. Finally one fellow -who, like a good Pullman porter, can laugh at you without changing his -facial expression, only if you watch closely you may note that the -muscles at the back of the neck dance in uncontrolled merriment--came -forward and said to us: "A beautiful sunset." - -He should have been reprimanded for his impudence, but I simply asked, -"Where?" - -"In the west," he explained. Then the boys turned and laughed without -restraint. - -"An ordinary sunset and a most ordinary joke," I said, rather icily. -But they continued to laugh, first looking at my companion and then at -me. - -"Not so ordinary," said another boy. "If you could see it from where we -are you could understand." - -"I understand you only too well," I answered. - -Then the two boys who were on the Reception Committee came over to us -and took my German friend in hand. There were no more remarks until we -reached the house and the man himself was quite out of hearing. - -"Why did you bring out a man like that?" the cook questioned me soon -after I reached the house, and every one looked up from the evening -paper he was reading anxious to have his little laugh. - -But years have taught me somewhat of the ways of men. Did not Moses, -when the children of Israel attempted to entangle him in argument, -make his contention invulnerable by stating, "God spake unto Moses, -saying,----" - -After that there wasn't much chance for argument. The best thing they -could do at such a time was to quietly line up in the ranks. And there -is an answer that will always check the hilarity of homeless men and -make them as sympathetic as children. - -"Why did you bring him out with you?" the cook repeated. - -"Why?" I said, simply, "the man is hungry." - -Each boy frowned at the cook and turned back to his reading. And -the cook made no answer, except he served the new-comer with double -portions. - -That night the German slept with his bed between the two beds of the -Reception Committee, and I heard nothing from him until they came to -report to me in the morning. - -"Father," said one of the committee, "I don't like that old party you -brought out with you yesterday. All night long in his sleep he was -muttering: 'Down with the millionaire; curse the capitalist'--that man -is an anarchist." - -A moment later the second member of the committee came in. - -"Mr. Floyd, you know that wooden box that 'Whiskers' brought with him?" -he asked, nervously; "I put my ear down to it and listened. I could -hear something inside going tick, tick, tick, as plain as day." - -"You are excited," I said. "After breakfast send the man to me." - -In my room the German and myself talked a long time. - -I asked him about the University of Heidelberg, the influence of -the student in German politics and of the world-wide socialistic -movement--had he ever read the works of Karl Marx, the great Socialist? - -No, he never had. - -Had he ever read La Salle, the anarchist? - -No. - -Or, in his travels, had he ever seen that little pamphlet entitled, -"Dynamite as a Revolutionary Agency?" - -No. - -But despite the denial, it was plain to see that my old German was -the anarchist that my committee had decided him to be. So I sent out -word that the boys should redouble their kindness to their half-crazed -friend. It was an opportunity to try our simple methods upon a man who -felt that the sad old world and its many peoples were as utterly lost -as a man may become who believes that there is no good within himself. -Men who feel themselves to be evil, they work evil. - -Hardly had a fortnight passed before our good anarchist caught the -spirit of the place and began to feel that kindly sympathy that dwells -even in the hearts of stranded men. The young men grew really fond of -him. - -At night he was the last man to knock at my door to see that everything -had been given attention; in the morning he was the first to ask what I -wished done. - -It was a cheery "good night" and a cheery "good morning." After several -months our anarchist succeeded in finding his brother's address in -Philadelphia. The brother offered him a home and a chance to work, so -it was arranged for our friend to go to him. - -As he was bidding me "adieu" he said: "When we first met, you -asked me if I had read any anarchistic writings, and I answered -you untruthfully. I have read the authors you mentioned, and in my -desperation I do not know to what extreme I might not have gone, for I -had lost faith in all men. - -"But to see these young men at the Colony, forgetful of their own -troubles, trying to help me to a renewal of courage, gave me a clearer -viewpoint of life--the blood I see now in my dreams is not that of the -capitalist done to death by a communistic mob--it is the blood of the -gentle Christ, who said: - -"'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.'" - -[Illustration: MAIN BUILDING FROM THE BUNGALOW] - - - - -A BASHFUL BEGGAR - - - - - "Faint heart ne'er won fair lady." - - - - -A Bashful Beggar - - -"It is his diffidence," the good lady told me, "that has caused the -young man to fail dismally in this strenuous age of materialism. His is -a gentle spirit!" - -At their first meeting, she told me, when he called at her home and -asked for something to eat, he appeared so shy and embarrassed that she -was immediately interested in him. He blushed and stammered in a most -pitiable way, and after he had eaten heartily of the roast beef and -potatoes placed before him he wanted to hurry away, hardly having the -courage to remain and thank his benefactor. - -The good lady told me all this in such a serious manner that I felt -I must accept it seriously, and when she suggested that I drive over -to a neighboring village to meet the boy at the train, because, being -unaccustomed to travel, he could never find his way alone to the -Colony, I arranged to meet him. - -There are simple-minded men--mental defectives--who are oftentimes -helpless as children, and I was inclined to put this boy in that class. - -But the lad whom I found waiting for me at the station came out to meet -me in a manner so self-possessed that for the instant I was startled. -The report of him seemed to be much in error. - -"I ought not to have put you to all this trouble," he said, in ready -apology. - -"The letter," I replied, "stated that you might not be able to find -your way." - -He gave me a sly, shrewd glance, and then, confident that he was -understood, he said simply, "Indeed?" - -"Naturally you did not confide in the lady who sent you, that you had -freighted it through most States as far as the railroads go?" - -"No, I did not approach her as a penitent at confessional," he -answered, "but rather as a panhandler at the side door. Confession may -help to advance a man spiritually, but to a man living on the material -plane, would you advise it?" - -"Is it true," I asked, "that you stammered and blushed when our friend -offered you roast beef and potatoes?" - -"It is my best canvass," he replied. - -We had driven some distance while this conversation was in progress, -and coming to cross-roads, I was uncertain of the direction. - -"Go in to that farmhouse, please," I said to my companion, pointing to -a cheerful looking home a short distance from the road, "and inquire -the way?" - -He alighted quickly and went around to the side door out of my sight. -I waited, every moment expecting him to return with the desired -information, and was growing impatient when he came out to me, his face -beaming with the enthusiasm that follows a successful interview. - -"This is your share," he said, holding out a generous portion of hot -apple pie to me. "The lady who lives here is a motherly soul--very -proud of her cooking, and the pie did smell most tempting--I could not -resist." - -"Did you use your usual 'blush and stammer' method to solicit this -pastry?" I questioned him. - -"No, she was as hungry for my compliments as I was for her apple pie, -so we simply made a fair exchange." - -"And the directions back to the Colony?" - -"The direction?" and he felt extremely stupid. "I felt all the time -that--in my sub-conscious mind--there was a thought trying to assert -itself." - -"But the strength of a bad habit," I remarked, "held back the thought: -habit is a strong force for good or evil, for it perpetuates itself by -a form, as it were, of auto-suggestion. You know all suggestions are -powerful." - -"It is good pie, isn't it?" he asked, irrelevantly. - -[Illustration] - - - - -FRITZ AND HIS SUN DIAL - - -"The small task--well performed--opens the door to larger opportunity." - - - - -Fritz and His Sun Dial - - -Years ago, I saw a near-sighted cook peeling onions--a most pathetic -scene if one judges entirely from appearances. The incident impressed -me deeply at the time, although it had long since passed from my mind, -when good old Fritz came to me, with tears running down the dusty -furrows of his be-wrinkled and weather-beaten face. - -Some strange analogy revived the old memory. There is--say what one -will--something tremendously ludicrous about honesty when clothed too -deeply in rusticity. We smile at it while we give it our love and -respect. - -It can toy with our heart-strings, playing both grave and gay. We laugh -at it so that we may not cry and become laughable ourselves. - -In broken English, he tried to explain that which was self-evident and -needed no explanation--his own distress and desperation. His simple -earnestness--his frank, honest manner--won every one's immediate -sympathy. The boys began to plan to relieve his distress, even while -they laughed with scant courtesy in the old man's face. - -His clothes were many sizes too large, which was not entirely offset by -his cap that was several sizes too small. Through his broken shoes, ten -toes spoke in most eloquent English--the need of protection and shelter. - -"What could ever cause a man to get into such a condition?" asked a -fellow, who, three weeks before, had arrived quite as dishevelled, but -had already forgotten the fact, which is just as well. - -"The cause?" asked the German. - -"Yes." - -"Beer." - -"Beer! You are the first man I ever saw who got to such a finish on -beer," returned the questioner. - -"I drink nothing else--never," the old German affirmed. - -"I am thinking Mr. Floyd will try to clean you up in a hurry--or not at -all--if you tell him that beer put you down and out." - -"I hope so," said the old man; "I feel pretty bad." - -"Some mighty arguments have been put out that it is the distilled -liquors that do all the mischief; that light wine and malt liquors are -no more harmful than tea. And here you are in our camp to disprove this -contention. If you say you have been on a beer debauch, you may not be -believed." - -"Maybe someone put a little apple-jack into my glass when I wasn't -looking," replied the German, quickly, as he went into the boys' -kitchen to get a little coffee. - -So it came about that Fritz became a Colony member, and his good nature -made him a general favorite almost immediately. His strength returned -to him rapidly. - -The final cure was effected when, among the books that came in, one of -the men found a German volume. He took it to Fritz with some misgiving, -as it was a work on astronomy, and Fritz did not resemble a Heidelberg -professor; but when our friend glanced at the book and saw the German -text, and then, on closer scrutiny, observed that it was a work on -astronomy, he became excitedly enthusiastic. - -"Good! Very good! I am happy to get it." - -It was a week later, an hour or two after midnight, I saw Fritz in the -moonlight, walking around outside the house. - -I went out to question him, as his actions seemed strange to me. - -"What is the trouble, Fritz?" I asked him. - -"It is nothing." - -"But I would rather not have the men out so late," I said. - -"I cannot find it," he replied. - -"Find what, Fritz? What have you lost?" - -"I cannot find the North Star," he said, sadly. - -"Don't you know where to look for it?" - -"Oh, yes; but it is always cloudy." - -At that moment the clouds began to move--not because Fritz wished it, -but his patience had outstayed the clouds. - -"There it is. That's it," he exclaimed, as he ran into the stable, -leaving me standing alone star-gazing to no purpose. But Fritz rejoined -me as abruptly as he had left me. He had brought out with him a square -board with an iron rod running through it. - -"What have you there?" I questioned him. - -"It is my sun-dial; it is my own invention. I have never seen a -sun-dial, but I am sure that mine will be as correct as any of them." - -Then he fastened the dial firmly on a stump, pointing the wire straight -at the North Star. - -"In the morning I can see if I am right. Good night, Mr. Floyd." - -"Good night, Fritz." - -For several weeks Fritz worked about the place timing his labor by his -ingenious invention. Sometimes he would work after the shadows had -passed the quitting hour. - -"The dial tells us," I said to him one day, "that it is time to stop -work." - -"No," he said, "sun-dials are never exact; sometimes they vary fifteen -minutes, at least. For the Earth goes around the Sun not in a circle -but in an ellipse. I will work a little longer." - - * * * * * - -One Sunday I overheard Fritz talking excitedly out near the spot where -the dial was stationed. I thought he had for the moment forgotten he -was a Self Master--as all men are likely at times to forget. But when I -went out to check the noise, I found that Fritz had ten or fifteen of -the men standing in front of him and he was saying: - -"It is easy to do--to measure the distance to the Sun, or the distance -from one planet to another. There are a hundred methods, many of them -as simple as it is to measure the length of a building." - -"You are a student of astronomy?" I asked. - -"Yes, for many years, I have studied the German books on astronomy. It -is my pleasure." - -From that day our respect for Fritz was established. There is an -aristocracy of learning; we doff our hats to even the beggar who knows. - -The visitors were all interested in Fritz's queer looking sun-dial, -made out of a square board and piece of telegraph wire. Automobiles -halted by the roadside to look at it. The children insisted on setting -their Ingersolls by its falling shadow. A well known physician stood -examining the dial one day. He took out his watch to make comparison. - -"Very clever," he said, "very clever; now let me see Fritz." And Fritz -came out. - -"He isn't much to look at," the Doctor whispered to me, as the old -German approached us. - -Just then the five o'clock whistle blew. The Doctor and I looked at the -dial. - -"The shadow," I said, "falls on the figure five." - -"Quite true," replied the Doctor. - -"It must," said Fritz, quietly; "it must, for the wire points to the -North Star." - -The Doctor smiled, as he spoke: "A man intelligent enough to make that -dial can, at least, care for my stable and horses.... Fritz, would you -like to work for me? I have some splendid horses and I pay well for -their care." - -"I will go gladly," said Fritz; "when do you want me?" - -"To-morrow," - -"May I go, Mr. Floyd?" - -"On one condition," I said. - -"What is it?" - -"You must give the Colony your sun-dial." - -"It is nothing, but you may have it if you like." - -The next day Fritz was given a good suit of clothes, a collar and tie. - -"I don't know about the collar and tie," said the old man; "I have not -worn one for many months." - -Three or four of the boys helped him to button on the collar and -arrange the ascot effectively. Then the Doctor came with his best span -of pet horses. - -"Jump in with me, Fritz," he said. - -The old German, smiling, climbed in and then turned, took his hat off -to me and the boys. - -"Thank you.... Good luck," he said. - -"You take the reins and drive," said the Doctor. - -Fritz buttoned his coat tightly around him, straightened up his old -bent back and taking the reins he proudly drove away. - -"He did not come in a carriage," said a boy. - -"It is the Self Masters that helped him," said another. - -"You forget about the Sun-dial," I said. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: THE BUNGALOW FROM THE MAIN BUILDING] - - - - -THE WAITER WHO DID NOT WAIT - - -"Whoever is not master of himself is master of nobody."--_Stahl._ - - - - -The Waiter Who Did Not Wait. - - -Had the schedule been followed faithfully, it was the time for the -auto party to have finished their tea and toast and be awaiting the -chauffeur to come up with their machine, but there seemed to be a delay -somewhere. Investigation revealed a peculiar condition of affairs. The -visitors were moving about rather impatiently while the lunch, instead -of being served, was rapidly getting chilled on the side-board in an -adjoining room. - -"Where is Delmonico Bill, the attentive waiter," we asked, not a little -surprised at his disappearance. He was nowhere to be found, although we -hunted high and low for him. - -But to manage men successfully who admit their irresponsibility needs -an overseer who is not only patient in disappointment, but who can -offer the pat excuse impromptu, and cheerfully reassure friends that -everything is all right, when--unless viewed from the standpoint of a -year from to-day--it is all wrong. - -On this special day there seemed to be no apparent explanation except -that the waiter did not wait. But everything is a success that ends -happily, and the delayed lunch made the visitors more than ever in -sympathy with the Work. Whoever loves us for our mistakes, shall become -more endeared to us as they know us better. The diners--who had not -dined--saw humor in our embarrassment, and assured us of their best -wishes as they drove merrily away, leaving us stupidly asking ourselves -why the waiter had left his guests unserved. - -It was nearly an hour later when Delmonico Bill came down out of the -hay loft, brushing the dust and hay-seed from his clothes. - -"Has she gone?" he enquired stupidly. - -"Who?" we asked him in chorus. - -"My Sunday school teacher," he explained. - -We awaited his further explanation. It was the first time we had heard -that he ever had such a teacher. - -"It isn't that I am in the least ashamed to serve as a waiter. Menial -work that must be done is not humiliating to me. But when I looked -in at the visitors as I was arranging their lunch on the tray--I -recognized in one of the ladies my old Sunday school teacher--and when -I thought to what an extent I had disregarded her instructions I hadn't -the courage to face her.... My, but it was hot up in that haymow!... - -"The last time I saw this good lady was the evening in the church -vestry when the class members gave her a group picture of themselves. -We all went to the local photographers together. There were three rows -of us--the tall, taller and tallest--all raw-boned rascals trying to -assume the spiritual pose of Sir Galahad. I never cared much for the -photograph, but the frame--the gold frame--much befiligreed was mighty -impressive. I remember it because there was seventy-five cents of my -money in it. I worked hard for that money. It took me the best part -of three nights to get it from Cy Watson--playing penny-ante in his -father's carriage house. But I was happy to turn it to such good use." - -"It was tainted money," said one of the boys. - -"There wasn't any such thing as tainted money in those days. Money was -money and no one had any of it. - -"I made the presentation speech that night in the vestry. It was -a masterpiece. The teacher and the women folks all cried. I have -forgotten the speech now; thirty years of knocking around the world -crowds out the memory of many things that happened when we were boys in -Sunday school. But for years, I could repeat that piece. I rehearsed -for that evening over two months--I could say it forwards or backwards, -I could start it in the middle and say it both ways--in fact when -I think of it, I rather believe that was the way I did say it that -evening, because the applause that followed my humble effort was too -tempestuous, yet the scholars all had their money in the gold frame, -and the teacher was to leave us next morning for the East, where she -was to marry some man of prominence. My mother said I spoke splendidly, -but I doubt if she really heard me. She was thinking how charming I -looked in the new trousers she had made for me. The truth was, she -had worked all the night before to get them ready. She had had some -difficulty to make the seams come down the side. As it was they were -not quite finished, but no one knew it but my mother and me. - -"In the years that are to come," I said in my speech, "not only will -your kindly instructions in our Bible studies help us to meet and -overcome all temptation, but the inspiration which we have received -from your friendship and devotion to our spiritual welfare will -influence us throughout our lives." - -For the moment Delmonico Bill was silent--whatever his thoughts may -have been, he did not share them with us. But presently, he observed -the tray with the tea and toast upon it, just as he had left it. - -"It is too bad," he said, "maybe she would not have known me at all.... -I am sorry ... but you can understand." - -Then he began to clear away the lunch. "The tea is still warm," he said -smilingly, "I believe I will pour a cup for myself ... my nerves are -jumping, it may quiet them." - -He filled the cup and raising it he said: "Here is to my Sunday school -teacher who believed in me in those days when I believed in myself. God -bless her." - -[Illustration] - - - - -COMPOUNDING A FELONY - - -"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will -not depart from it."--_Bible._ - - - - -Compounding a Felony - - -There was a knock at the door, but no one thought of answering it until -it was repeated--more faintly, a second time--then one of the young men -opened it, saying to the newcomer, "It is never locked, my boy." - -In stepped a lad some seventeen years of age, and inquired in a voice -hardly audible if he could stay all night. - -The young men sent the new arrival to me for an answer to his request. -It was readily to be seen that the boy was in a state of great -excitement. He acted so strangely that, contrary to custom, I asked him -why he had come. - -"The police are after me," he stammered, as he turned and looked -nervously at the door. - -"What have you done?" I questioned the boy. - -"I stole a bicycle and the owner just saw me walking along the street -and started to chase me, calling after me, 'Stop, thief!' A crowd -began to gather and I had all I could do to get away. I ran around a -building and joined the crowd in the search; then, after a little, I -dropped out of sight again and decided that I would go out to you for -advice." - -"Where is the bicycle now?" I questioned. - -"I sold it," he said. - -"Where is the money you got for it?" - -"I spent it." He began to cry. - -"And now your conscience starts to trouble you." - -"Yes, sir." - -"My lad," I told him, "this is no hiding place for boys who steal, and -for whom the police are searching." - -The boy did not reply; he turned aside and brushed away the tears with -his cap. Then he started slowly towards the door. - -"So I can't stay?" he said finally. - -"I am afraid not," I replied. - -He went to the window and peered out into the night. - -"They'll get me," he said, hopelessly, "and when they do it means a -long term in prison for me." - -"Wait a moment," I said. "Have you been arrested before." - -"Yes, another boy and myself took some fancy postal cards from a -stationery stand. They were funny pictures that we wanted for our -collection. We were sent to Jamesburg that time. Then since I came from -that institution I was arrested again for something else I did and I am -now out on probation. Next time the judge said he would give me a long -sentence in the Rahway Reformatory." - -"You should have thought of all this sooner," I said, with a sternness -that I did not feel, for I knew how easily one can drift from an evil -thought into an evil act. - -"I heard you helped boys when they needed it," ventured the young -rascal. "I surely need it now." - -"I may help them when I can," I replied, "but I never intentionally -make myself a partner in their wrong doing." - -"The judge ought not to give me more than three years," said the boy -thoughtfully, "even that is a long time.... The bicycle wasn't worth -more than five dollars any way. The owner said he would sell it to me -for that amount." - -At that moment there was a noise in the next room. - -"What was that?" asked the lad, trembling with fear. - -"Your conscience is quite wakeful, my boy. That was one of the men -closing the windows for the night." - -The boy came over close to me so he could look into my face, and there -was a depth of seriousness in his voice when he said, "So you think I -ought to give myself up and take the consequences?" - -"Three years in prison?" I asked, looking straight at the boy. "Three -years in prison!" - -The words of Jacob Riis flashed through my mind--"When a boy goes to -prison, a citizen dies." - -"If you were in my place you would give yourself up?" he asked me -pointedly. - -I passed my hand across my eyes. Unlike the boy I had no cap with which -to brush away the tears. - -"My boy," I said, "I will be honest with you--I would not give myself -up." - -"What would you do?" - -"First, I would make up my mind not to steal any more, then I would -earn money and pay the man for the bicycle." - -A new light came into the boy's eyes. - -"I did not used to be a thief," he said, "but they made me mad. Ever -since I came from Jamesburg every one watches me. My old boy friends, -my father and mother, the police; someone's eye is always on me. Their -suspicions madden me. Sometimes it seems to me as if they dared me -to take another risk. One day on the ferryboat from New York I met a -detective who had once arrested me. Wherever I went he followed me. I -was afraid, so I left the other boys who were with me and went to the -stern of the boat. I didn't tell anyone, but when I was all alone I put -my hands down into my own pockets so he would know that I didn't have -them in anyone else's.... I'm not very old, but I know that that isn't -the way to make a bad boy into a good one." - -After a moment I said to him: "if I can arrange with the owner of the -bicycle so that you can pay for it in small weekly payments, will you -join the Colony and out of the little money you earn settle with the -man you have wronged?" - -"If you will help me," returned the lad hopefully, "I will make good to -the man and to you." - -The next morning I talked the boy's case over with an elderly attorney -who lives with us, and who knows of his own knowledge the ruin one can -bring upon himself if he does not follow proper methods. The old man -gladly undertook to settle with the owner of the stolen bicycle, and -save the boy from the consequences of his wrongdoing. - -The boy worked industriously about the place and in a few weeks had -earned sufficient money to settle satisfactorily for the bicycle. He is -now working on a neighbor's farm and says that he is determined to make -something worth while out of his life. - -"Do you know," said the old attorney to me recently, "if anyone ever -charges us with having compounded a felony in the case of this boy and -his bicycle we can defend ourselves on the technical ground that the -bicycle was of such slight value that the stealing of it was only a -petty crime." - -"In this case--the saving of a boy from prison"--I answered him, "if -a technicality saves us from a criminal charge which might be brought -against us, I for one am perfectly satisfied with such a defense." - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE PASSING OF SULLIVAN - - -"Friar Philip, you are the tuning fork from whence my conscience takes -its proper tone."--_Richelieu._ - - - - -The Passing of Sullivan - - "What's the name that grows - Upon you more and more?" - "Sullivan!"--"That's my name." - - "Who's the man who wrote - The opera, Pinafore?" - "Sullivan!"--"That's my name." - - "Big Tim, you all knew him; - John L., you know him well. - There never was a man, named Sullivan - Who wasn't a d---- fine Irishman." - - --_George Cohan's Song, "Sullivan."_ - - -If you thought it was imperative to change your name and you had access -to all the Literature--Ancient and Modern--to be found in a Carnegie -Library, would you select for yourself the name "Sullivan?" - -Evidently our Irish Lad agreed with Cohan--that "it is a d--n fine -name"--for when I recognized in him one of my Family of Homeless Men -as he walked aimlessly along the city streets, and asked him rather -abruptly, what his name might be, his reply--too long considered to be -truthful--was, "Frank Sullivan." - -"Pardon me," I said, immediately realizing that I had no right to ask -of him the question and that my thoughtlessness had caused the boy to -answer falsely. The outcast, distrustful of his fellow, frequently -seeks safety in falsehood until friendship disarms suspicion and Love -calls forth the Truth for which it has not asked. - -"_Frank Sullivan_," I said. "I, too, like the name." - - * * * * * - -So upon my invitation he came gladly into our little Family to share -the happy freedom of a peaceful home, where others like himself give -honest work and receive--not in the spirit of organized charity, but in -the true warmth of fraternal love--the hospitality of a welcome guest. - -His Irish heart soon caught the meaning of the work, and responded -readily in thoughtful service.... If our Self Master Colony attracted -the attention of some broad-minded man well known in humanitarian work -so that encouraged, it carried me and my dreams of uplift higher and -higher until the stars were our near neighbors--Sullivan, silent and -attentive, followed me in my dreams. - -If my work was misunderstood and my best efforts discredited, Sullivan -was at my side silently consoling me with his loyalty and friendship. - -He grew into my life. I depended upon him and he did not fail me. - -"Richelieu," I would often say, "had his Friar Philip to aid him in his -ambitions and I have my good friend Sullivan." - -Then as the months passed, once again, the grass spread its delicate -carpet beneath our feet, the trees blossomed sending a perfumed message -to us, the bluebird and the thrush called through the open windows -until we, busy with our work, were forced to remark that Spring time -had come--the beginning of another year.... Then the Brothers observed -the progress we had made in the twelvemonth.... It seemed so much to -them, so little to the outside world. - -"It looks more prosperous now," said Sullivan proudly as he observed -the automobiles stopping at the door, "you make Prince as well as -Pauper do you homage." - -"No, Sullivan, not I; it's the Truth that all are hungry for--Pauper -and Prince alike--and while the few may reach it by meditation and the -more by prayer, the most of common clay like you and I must reach it by -service." - -"I never quite understand you when you speak," he said, "I never could -read those dry old books however much I tried.... But by the way, I -wonder if we have blankets for the new arrival who just came in." - -For the Stranded Sons of the City come often to join our Family and -share our simple hospitality. - - * * * * * - -"Sullivan," I said one day, "this work is going to grow and grow.... -When we have won I want you to share the credit with me--you will -remain, will you not?" - -Then receiving no reply, I turned to look and he had gone--gone to -offer his blanket to the new guest. - -"Yes," I heard him say, "I have some extra covers on my bed you may -have." - -"Another falsehood. Sullivan, you should always speak the truth." For -the nights were cold and the blankets none too many. And yet since many -prayers are lies, why may not some lies be prayers? "Maybe in your -dark purgatory, my Irish lad, these little falsehoods of yours will be -counted as prayers." - -One afternoon a letter came for my friend--in a young girl's rather -labored writing--he had received many such, and as I gave it to him I -smiled a little. To him I had always been an indulgent Father--for a -boy and girl will love, even though he or she may be our favorite child. - -That night when the day's labor was over, Sullivan came to me, asking -if he could talk to me. It was a strange request, for he never seemed -to wish to talk, and I knew that something had moved him deeply. - -"You know my name is not Frank Sullivan," he asked. - -"Yes, I know," I answered. - -"But did you know I was married?" he inquired. - -"What, a boy like yourself married?" I asked. - -"Yes, I have been married over two years and have a little girl a year -old. The letters that I have received have been from my wife Josephine. -She and I ran away and were married, but on our return her father -wouldn't accept me. He said I was not worthy of his daughter--and no -doubt he is right. He is wealthy and I could not support her in the way -to which she is accustomed. So I was forced to leave her. But Josephine -and I couldn't forget. - -"All these months she has been working to interest her father in -me, and now the baby is a year old, he has decided to help me.... -We--Josephine and I--knew he would soften in time; you see he, too, -loves Josephine and the Baby. So I want to go to them." - -"Yes," I said simply, for a sense of approaching loss had robbed me of -my pretty speeches. - -"When you met me, I didn't know where to go, nor what to do," he said. - -"Yes." - -"I have flattered myself I have been some help to you in starting your -work. Tell me have I made good to you?" - -"Yes." - -"I shall try to make good to Josephine's father." - -"Yes." - -Then in a few moments he said: - -"Now that it is time to go from you, I hate to leave you and the boys." - -"But you must go," I said, "your wife and child have the first claim." - -"Josephine wanted me to ask you for two or three rugs that the boys -weave. We want them for our new home." - -"You may have them." - -And I took him by the hand, "Good-by, Sullivan." - -"Not Sullivan anymore, but McLean," he replied. - -As he turned away he said half regretfully, "It is the Passing of -Sullivan." - -"I wonder if Richelieu, after all, lost his Friar Philip?" I asked -myself as I waved my hand in farewell to him. - -[Illustration] - - - - -WHEN SISTER CALLED - - -"O Lord, That which I want is first bread--Thy decree, not my choice, -that bread must be first."--_Sidney Lanier._ - - - - -When Sister Called - - -He came--did Jim--highly recommended by two fellows who live by their -wits--one, Lakewood Joe and the other, Corduroy Tom. They are my -friends, for they have told me they were. One of them always comes to -me in the Winter anxious to get work on a farm; the other with a few -broken umbrellas and a railroad spike for a hammer, starts out with the -Springtime on the quest of "anything to mend." - -Umbrella mending was once a reputable calling, but it has fallen into -disrepute since the introduction of the cheap umbrella. But that -pathetic part of the story should be left for Lakewood Joe to tell, for -it gets him--a humble mechanic--many a hot cup of coffee, many a dime. - -The recommendation by my two friends was sufficiently strong to nearly -cause me to refuse admission to young Jim. But his manner pleased me -and our reception committee--made up of members of the Family--assured -me that we had no need to fear poor Jim. Anyway he who has nothing can -safely make friends with whomever he chooses. - -Jim told us that years ago he had been a "cookie"--please note the -"ie"--in a lumber camp in an Eastern State. So when a vacancy occurred -in the culinary department of our home Jim was selected for the place. - -He proved an excellent assistant and worked for the house--as the -phrase goes--he made the coffee so weak, he made the potato soup go -so far, that I, economical from habit and from necessity, would blush -whenever one of the boys said that he enjoyed the good dinner. - -I need have had no fear for it was Jim's smile that made us all content -with the simple fare. - -"A grand cook," the boys would say. - -"A grand cook," Echo and I would answer. - -Jim had roughed it for several years and knew a little of the ways of -the road. He had worked when a boy in his father's factory and as some -of the workmen felt they were not being paid properly--the son joined -in with the workmen and went out on a strike against his father. - -In the excitement of the strike the father had spoken to the son -about his joining in with the strikers. It seemed to the father like -disloyalty--ingratitude. But as for the son, he couldn't analyze -his own psychological state of mind sufficiently to explain why his -sympathy had been with the strikers, but feeling himself no longer -welcome at the old home, he started to roam. - -Seven years had passed since he had written to the old folks. Once or -twice he had heard indirectly of his father's search for him, but he -could not even bring himself to write, much less to return. - -He had been with us nearly a month when finally, one evening, as he saw -the other boys writing letters to their homes he decided he himself -would write a letter to his married sister in Pennsylvania. When it was -written and mailed, he half regretted what he had done. - -Wasn't he a wanderer--a young hobo if you like--and why should he think -of home after all these years, even if the kindly sympathy to be found -at the Colony did recall to him those better days? - -But the letter was already on its way.... He wondered what his sister -might think, how she might act.... She had always cared for him. - -The bean soup which he was preparing for supper burned while he was -deep in thought, and he blamed himself for his absent-mindedness. - -"The boys will have to eat burnt soup just because I got to feeling -sentimental," he said to himself. - - * * * * * - -Then a word came that a nicely gowned young lady was coming up the -driveway. There are many visitors at the Tea Room of the Colony House -so it need have caused no excitement. But some one whispered "Look at -Jim!" - -He had glanced out at the approaching stranger, and he was pale and -trembling. He said to me in a faint voice, "It's my sister. Tell her I -left this morning.... Tell her I got a position." - -And then the bell rang and he said: - -"Wait--I will see her." - -So brushing his hair and arranging his tie he went in to meet his -sister. - -The homeless outcast lad faced his aristocratic sweet-faced sister! -As the boys saw them they did not know which one to pity the more, -although the sympathy seemed to be pretty largely with Jim. - -"Is every one well?" the brother asked, trying to relieve the strain of -the situation. - -"Yes," she answered, "but why have you never written all these years? I -got your letter this morning and left in an hour to get to you for fear -I might lose you again. Father has hunted for you everywhere. He thinks -he was harsh with you when you struck that day with the men--for you -were only a child. - -"I thought I might get you to come home with me," she continued, "my -husband and I have a splendid home. You are always welcome.... Or why -don't you go back to your old job with Father. He needs you. He is -getting older." - -"You think he would take me back?" - -"Gladly. What are you doing here?" - -"I am cook for the boys," he said. - -"You, a cook?" she smiled. "Why, you wouldn't wash a dish at home for -me when we were children. You can't be very much of a cook.... But -never mind. I have found you." - -"Confound it! I have let those beans burn again." And he excused -himself for a moment. - -When he returned he said, "I will write you if I can decide to go back -home. It comes a little suddenly you know. I have been a prodigal too -long to turn into a father's white-haired boy on the instant." - -Then after a moment he asked: "Do you know what Mother used to put into -the beans when she burned them to take out the smoky taste?" - -"Jim, Mother wasn't that kind of a cook." - -As the sister was going out to step into the carriage she said, -"Promise me you will not leave here without writing me. I don't want to -lose you again." - -"I promise," he said. - - * * * * * - -That night the boys ate their supper in silence. Each one was deep in -thought. - -"Too bad the beans are burned," Jim said. - -"I like them that way," replied one of the boys. "It makes them taste -different." - -That night after supper no one wrote any letters, which was unusual, -and one of the boys jokingly asked another near him, "Why don't you -write a letter home to your sister?" - -"I am afraid," replied the lad, "she might answer it in person like -Jim's sister did." - -Jim has taken a job on a farm and is saving his money. He has nearly -enough to return to his old home; he refuses to accept any aid from his -father or sister. - -"I will go back as I came away--independently." - -[Illustration] - - - - -EDISON'S EVENING STAR - - -"Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion: The Lord is his -name."--_Bible._ - - - - -Edison's Evening Star - - _Hamlet_: "Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?" - - _First Clown_: "Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits - there; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there." - - _Hamlet_: "Why?" - - _First Clown_: "'Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as - mad as he." - - --_Shakespeare._ - - -To be dull of wit is sadly unfortunate, but to be dull of wit and be -compelled to live in a Colony made up of more or less reckless young -men is doubly unfortunate. - -In the group eccentricities are quickly discouraged. The grouch, the -crank, the bully, if he would remain and live in harmony must learn his -lesson in democracy--the individualist is given short shift. - -Of course the dull of wit should be given immunity at all times, and -in theory he is, but in real practice even the most gentle hearted -man will have his little joke at the expense of the man less alert -mentally. The members of the Colony are no exception to this rule. - -"Tell us more," the boys asked of the Moon-Struck-One, one evening -after the day's work was done, "about the inhabitants of Mars, which -you see in your trances." - -And then he--the Moon-Struck-One--would explain in detail the strange -people he had seen in his dreams. - -"These planets," he told them, "are all being made ready for the coming -race of Man.... After Cycles and Cycles, we move on to newer and better -worlds.... Each of the mystic Seven Planets are at the service of the -human race. Time and time again a new world has borne the burden of the -evolving man's hope and his despair.... The cosmic scheme is worthy of -the Wondrous God, who holds not only the Seven Planets in control, but -rules the Seven Universes with their Seven Suns--you laugh, most men -laugh, the churchmen laugh, they do not know, they have not seen--but I -know and have seen." - -"How interesting," said one boy, winking slyly to his fellows. "I know -something of astronomy myself; my brother was a Princeton graduate." - -It was a summer's evening when this conversation took place and the -boys were sitting out on the lawn enjoying the night air, for the day -had been hot and oppressive. - -"What do any of you know of the Stars?" said the Moon-Struck-Sage. - -"Very little, but tell us," said one of the boys, "for I believe in -your visions. I dreamed one night myself about a big fire--a bad sign -as you very well know--and the next day I got 'pinched.'" - -"Yes, you are deeply learned in the Stars," he said with smiling -skepticism, "that is, I suppose you can tell the difference between a -star and a lantern." - -"Look out," said a boy who had not spoken before, "he is joking you." - -"No, seriously," said the Witless One, "when I said 'lantern' I had -reference to the light that Edison hangs out each night when the -weather is clear--you have no doubt read of it. He plans to construct a -light that will illuminate this country at night almost as brightly as -the sun lights it by day.... Do you see that light just above the trees -in the East. You can tell it as it is larger than any stars around it. -It has the appearance of a star only much brighter. Do you see it?" - -"Yes," said the boys who were all attention, although one or two were -skeptical until one of the group remembered that he had read about -Edison's powerful light in the Sunday magazine supplement of a New York -paper. - -"He is a wonderful man," said another. - -At last all were convinced and the Moon-Struck-One, satisfied, arose -rather abruptly, and went into the house. - -A few days later he left the Colony to go to his relatives in a distant -city, and so the boys had no one to play tricks upon, no one who was -not their equal in wit. - -It was some weeks afterwards that one of the young men said to me as we -were talking out of doors in the evening: - -"There is that light of Edison's hanging over the trees." - -"Where?" I asked. - -"That bright light over there that looks like a big star. The Witless -One told us about it. In some ways he was really wiser than we gave him -credit for." - -"That's the Evening Star," I said. - -"It is what?" asked another boy. - -"It is Venus, the Evening Star." - -"He told us it was put up there by Edison." - -"So it really isn't an illuminated balloon?" - -The boys looked from one to the other, then every one laughed loudly -and long. - -"Doesn't the Bible say, 'Answer a fool according to his folly?'" asked -a boy. - -"Yes, and it also says, 'Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest -thou also be like unto him.'" - -[Illustration] - - - - -IN THE WORLD OF WANDERLUST - - -"To stand in true relations with men in a false age, is worth a fit of -insanity, is it not?" - - --_Emerson._ - - - - -In the World of Wanderlust - - -The Spirit of the Wanderlust seizes all the World in the early days of -Spring--the so-called hobo takes to the open road, the millionaire to -his country home, each rejoices that the long imprisonment of winter -is passed, for all men are akin in their love of freedom. It is a -search for the ideal. With De Soto we would say, "Somewhere, if ye seek -untiringly, ye shall discover and drinke of ye Fountaine of Youth and -Happiness." - -"Men have said they do not understand my restless wanderings," remarked -Lakewood Tom. "Can it be they have never watched the coming of the -first robin, and do not know that he ushers in the new regime of -promise and prosperity? - -"Other men may linger in the failing twilight of the tired day. I go to -greet the rising sun. Even the very birds--little hoboes of the air, -break camp cheerfully in early May. Like them I, too, take to the open -road and walk by faith. - -"But you, my lords, with your worldly goods, are vagabonds no less than -I. Out of the inexhaustible larder of the Divine, God gives you--as -it were--a crust of bread, and men call you mighty in riches. Take a -vagabond's advice, and put your mark upon the house where you found -favor, lest after many years, disheartened, you pass that way again and -need another 'handout'--maybe not a crust of bread, but, a more lasting -gift--an ideal perchance, that may not fail so soon. Sometimes methinks -it sad, there is given to man only the thing for which he asks. - -"Adieu," said Lakewood Tom, taking up his staff, "when the snow falls -next year I may visit your Monastery again with your permission, if by -happy chance I am on this earth. If not, I'll meet you some Christmas -day on the planet Mars, for I never forget a friend. Good cheer! Adieu." - -"Much privation has crazed the old man," said a comrade who, with me, -watched the old vagabond walking slowly down the drive. - -"I do not know," I said. - - - - -THE TWO JEANS - - -"To every man there come noble thoughts that pass across his heart like -great white birds."--_Maeterlinck._ - - - - -The Two Jeans - - -"It is always hard times on the Bowery," my diminutive informant told -me. He was a new comer to our Colony. He, in company with another young -man, had made his appearance an hour or two before, but I had not been -able to talk with him, except to assure him that he and his friend -might remain with us one night, at least. "Yes, sir," he continued, -"without money a man is a dead one; even in this strange haunt of -stranger men money is a daily need. Of course, some men who know the -hidden ways can get along on as little as twenty cents a day, or less, -but for myself I could not exist on less than thirty-five cents." - -The figures he mentioned seemed modest enough to me. "Couldn't you earn -that much?" I asked him. - -"I am so small no one would hire me," he replied. "I could get errands -to do now and then. Of course, while my mother lived she kept a home -for me, but after she died I did not know what to do. I only sat in the -house day after day and looked out of the window. I could not make any -plans for myself. You see when I was a baby I fell and injured my back. -I didn't grow much more after that accident. The doctors called it a -curvature." - -He laughed easily as he asked me, "You know the poem of James Whitcomb -Riley, - - 'I'm th'ust a little cripple boy - An' never going to grow, - An' git a great big man at all, - 'Cause auntie told me so.' - -"I rather think I'm that boy. One time I chanced to find that poem and -read it to my mother. She took the book from me in the gentle way she -had, and then putting her arms around me, told me to be a good boy and -everything would come out all right. But they never did come all right. -Maybe I was not good enough; but this can't interest you. You hear -enough hard luck stories without mine." - -"If you wish to tell me," I said, "I shall be quite glad to listen." - -"Well, it's only this," he continued. "Left to myself, I wasn't smart -enough to make a living. I can't get my room rent and my lunch money -all at the same time. If I have my lunches I have no room, and if I -have a room I have nothing to eat." - -He grew very serious. He could laugh at his misshapen back, make a jest -at his deformity, but hunger--even at the thought of hunger--the smile -left his face, the color fled from his lips. - -"Are you faint?" I asked him quickly. - -"No, I am a coward," he said, "just a plain coward. You see, I am -beaten and I know it." - -"You will be all right in a few days," I said, "and be able to -criticise the food as cheerfully as any other member of my Family." I -laughed gayly enough, but he did not laugh with me. "Have you and this -boy been friends a long time? Where did you meet him?" I inquired. - -"In the park, some weeks ago. He has no home either. He was sleeping -out and so was I. He gave me part of a newspaper to put under me, as -the ground was damp. So I tried to talk to him.... He is good looking, -isn't he?" - -I admitted it. - -"Well, he's a Russian dummy," said the boy. - -"He is what?" I asked. - -"He just landed from Russia three months ago, and he knows very little -about the English language. He doesn't have the slightest idea what I -have been talking to you about all this time. Night after night, not -having any bed to sleep in, he has 'flopped' in the park or 'carried -the banner' until morning." - -"So you brought him out with you?" - -"Yes; I didn't know whether you would take us in or not. I thought I -would take him along on the theory that the ground in Jersey is no -harder to sleep on than it is in New York State. If you have to turn us -away we will not be any worse off than we have been." - -"We will make room somehow for you and your friend," I told him. - -So Jean--Little Jean, the boys called him--went through a pantomime -for the enlightenment of the Russian youth whose name was also Jean. -Finally the larger boy understood that I had given them permission to -remain, for he turned to me and said simply: "Nice," and then he bowed -gracefully. Little Jean was right--Big Jean was good looking. - -"I wish I was big and strong like him," said Little Jean, admiringly.... - - * * * * * - -... The weeks pass quickly when one has his work to do, and the two -Jeans grew to know the Colony. Big Jean spent his spare hours studying -English and talking with the other boys. Little Jean made friends with -the chickens, the pigs, the cow and the horse, while Boozer--the Colony -dog--and he were inseparable chums. - -"Boozer," Little Jean told me, "knows the heart of outcast boys and -men. He meets the new arrivals at the gate and escorts them to the -house. He may challenge the lawless approach of the rich man in his -auto, and warn the household of possible danger impending, but the most -unkempt 'knight of the road' will find Boozer quick to make friends -with him." - -Big Jean--with his pleasing bow--looked after the guests who visited -the Tea Room, for he learned to speak English rapidly. The report of -his courteous service came to the ears of a wide awake Jap who needed -him to help him in his hotel. So one day he sent for the Russian lad. - -At the start the pay was to be twenty dollars a month, with room, board -and extra tips. - -"You need me in your Tea Room, Mr. Floyd," he said, "I am willing to -stay." - -"No, Jean, you must take the position and prove to me and to yourself -that you can make good." - -That night he wrote to his aged mother in Russia that there were -wonderful opportunities for young men in America. - -When he had gone I hunted to find Little Jean. I found him out on the -lawn with his chum, Boozer. He did not see me as I approached, but as -I looked at him the thought came to me that he had suddenly grown old, -and there was the anxious look upon his face--the same that I had seen -when he had talked to me the first time. - -"Boozer," I heard him say, "it's all right; I am a coward, I'm beaten -and I know it, but I'm glad Big Jean got the job--honestly, Boozer, I -am--you see it isn't all my fault--he's so damned good looking." - -Boozer put his face close to that of Little Jean and held out his paw -to the discouraged boy. You see when you live your life at the Self -Masters you sense the inner thought of broken men. Boozer--who knows -no other life--understands the heart of the discouraged. I did not -interrupt the two friends, but turned back to the house. - - * * * * * - -"What can you ever do to help poor Little Jean?" a visitor asked me. -"There seems to be no position in the world for him. What can you do -for him?" - -"I don't see much chance," I replied, distrusting for the moment that -Divine Guidance that never fails. - -It was only two days after Big Jean had left us that a kindly old lady -called at the Colony. She wanted a boy who would take good care of her -horses, and drive her and her husband back and forth from her home to -the railway station. "I want a boy who loves animals," she said. - -So Little Jean has his place in the world--like you and I if we can -only find it.... - - * * * * * - -... Xmas Day Big Jean brought four big pies which he had cooked -especially for the Self Masters' dinner. - -And Little Jean brought his Xmas present--all neatly tied up in a box -bedecked with pink ribbons--a pound of meat for Boozer. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: Self Master Print. - -Union, Union Co. New Jersey.] - - - * * * * * -Transcriber's Notes: - -Italics and underlining indicated by _ markings - -Obvious printing errors repaired - -Alternate and idiosyncratic spellings retained as printed - Example p. 49: Retained archaic spelling of sacrefice as printed - -Retained inconsistent hyphenation as printed - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Monks of Vagabondia, by Andress Floyd - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY MONKS OF VAGABONDIA *** - -***** This file should be named 51004.txt or 51004.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/0/51004/ - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Christopher Wright and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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