We used
to do the slums act, and I would put on an old suit of clothes so I
wouldn't be known. We would stand in the bread-line just like the rest
of them and get our roll and coffee. It reminded me of my old life, and
sometimes I would imagine I was "down and out" again, but it's different
when you have a little change in your pocket. A dollar makes a big
difference, and you can never appreciate the feelings of a poor "down
and out" if you never were there yourself.
We had been going around together for about three or four weeks when
one day he showed me a cable dispatch from Paris telling him he was
wanted and to come at once. We had had a nice time together and I was
sorry he was going.
He asked me for one of my pictures to put in his book, which I gave him.
Then he wanted to know what he could do for me. I thought a moment, then
said, "Give the poor fellows a feed Sunday night." I was the Sunday
night leader and I wanted him on the platform. He said, "All right. Be
at the Mission Sunday afternoon."
About 5 P. M. there drove up to the Mission door a carriage with a man
in it who said, "Is this 17 Dover Street, and is your name Mr.
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