I would not go
back to the old life for anything in the world.
Part of my work has been in Mariners' Temple, corner of Oliver and Henry
Streets, Chatham Square, New York City, right on the spot where I did
everything on the calendar but murder. There I could see the men every
night, for we had a meeting all the year round, and every day from 1 to
2 P. M. We invited all those who were in trouble to come, and if we
could help them we gladly did so. If they wanted to go to the hospital
we placed them there and would do whatever we could for them, always
telling them of Jesus the Mighty to save.
FROM NOTHING TO $5000 A YEAR
I remember and love a man who was my partner in the Tuesday night
meetings in the Mariners' Temple, when we fed the poor fellows during
the winter--a fine Christian gentleman. You would never think to look
at him he was once such a drunkard! He told me his story. He had spent
months hanging out in the back room of a saloon on Park Row, only going
out once in a while to beg a little food. He had sold everything he
could sell and he was a case to look at. He must have been, or the
proprietor would never have said, "Say, you are a disgrace to this
place! Get out and don't come in here again!" The poor fellow went out.
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