I asked if some one would
play the piano, and a young fellow came up that looked as though he
hadn't had a meal or slept in a bed in a month, but when he touched the
keys I knew he was a master. I found out later that he was a prodigal,
had left home, spent all, and was on the Bowery living on the husks.
We began by singing a hymn, after which I got up and began to talk to
the men. I gave my testimony, how God had saved me from a life of
crookedness and crime, and that I was no better than the worst man on
the Bowery, except by the grace of God. There was one big fellow sitting
in the front row who was trying to guy me. While I was talking he would
make all sorts of remarks, such as, "Oh, what do you know about it? Go
away back and sit down," etc. I asked him to keep still or he would
have to get out. I went on trying to talk, but that man would always
answer back with some foolish remark. He was trying to stop the
meeting--so he told me afterwards.
There I was. I could not go on if he did, and I told him that when I got
through I would give him a chance to talk. Now there were over four
hundred men looking at me, wondering what I would do.
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