It set them to thinking. The saloon-keeper wouldn't do it;
what did he care for them? I said, "Boys, I'm not doing this; I don't
want you to think so. It's God through me."
Many's the night after that I kept the Mission open and let the poor
fellows sleep there, on the chairs and on the floor, and they
appreciated it. I was winning them through kindness. When I was ready to
go home to my nice warm bed, I'd read them a little riot act telling
them there were always a few among a lot of men that would spoil a good
thing, ending up, "Be good, boys, and have a good sleep. Good-night,"
and they would say so heartily, "Good-night, Danny! God bless you and
keep you!"
Letting the men stay didn't cost me a cent, and there was a big fire to
keep them warm and it meant much to them, poor fellows. I had the Board
of Health get after me quite a few times, but I'd explain things to
them, and they would go away saying, "You're all right." Big hard men
said, "If people who want to do good would only get a place to house the
poor unfortunates, there would be less crime and misery." I knew that
was true, and I'm praying for the day when we can have just such a
place, and God is going to give it in His own good time.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106