ILLINOIS ;:::i:r;icAL SURVEY
 
 
 THE STREET OF 
 FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 Ten Years of Missionary) 
 Experience in Chicago 
 
 By 
 JOHN VAKfDE WATER 
 
 Superintendent of 
 
 "The Helping Hand Mission" 
 
 Chicago, III. 
 
 Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. 
 
 "The Reformed Press" 
 GRAND RAPIDS. MICHIGAN
 
 LUTH. CH. OF THE RESURRECTION Li^llARY 
 OAK FOREST, ILLINOIS 60452 
 
 , HUT. 
 
 Mr. John Vande Water
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 THIS BOOK was written at the request of 
 many friends of the Helping Hand Mission. 
 Especially Mr. Wm. B. Eerdmans urged the 
 writing of this book on the ground that a very 
 good way to promote interest in the cause of 
 Christian Missions is to tell of the actual ex- 
 periences of the workers in their own field. 
 
 We have tried to present to our readers a 
 series of unexaggerated pen-pictures which will 
 give them a true conception of the kind of 
 people with whom we are laboring, and of the 
 various effects which the gospel-message has 
 upon them. It was not our purpose to give a 
 complete and orderly account of our experi- 
 ences in the Helping Hand Mission, nor to pre- 
 sent a history of this institution. Neither have 
 we sought to relate experiences that were very 
 exciting. Our purpose was not to write a thrill- 
 ing, but an edifying book. 
 
 We claim no literary merit for these sketches. 
 Our only hope and prayer is that they may find 
 favor with our Christian people, and that the 
 perusal of these pages will give them a better 
 insight into the great spiritual need of those 
 to whom w,e are bringing the glad news, into 
 the difficulties which confront us, and especially 
 into the divine power of the simple gospel-story,
 
 which to some, is a savor from death unto death, 
 but to others, a savor from life unto life. 
 
 In the preparation of this book the author 
 has had the hearty co-operation of Rev. H. J. 
 Kuiper, pastor of the Broadway Avenue Chris- 
 tian Reformed Church, Grand Rapids, Mich., 
 Prof. S. Volbeda, Th. D., of Calvin Seminary, 
 Grand Rapids, and Mr. Theodore Jongsma of 
 Chicago, to whom grateful acknowledgement is 
 made for the valuable services they have ren- 
 dered. 
 
 May the Lord use this simple little book for 
 His glory! 
 
 JOHN VANDE WATER.
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 DEAR READERS : 
 
 / T GIVES me great pleasure to write this Introduction 
 upon request of my friend, Mr. Vande Water, Superin- 
 tendent of the Helping Hand Mission of Chicago. The 
 author hardly needs an introduction. He is well-known 
 to a host of people in various parts of our Church terri- 
 tory. Those who have not heard him speak have, no 
 doubt, heard of the splendid work which he is doing in the 
 Mission entrusted to his care. 
 
 The sketches contained in this book are designed to give 
 the readers a true view and sympathetic understanding 
 of the work in which the author is serving Christ under 
 the auspices of the Chicago Christian Reformed Churches. 
 The Mission Superintendent has wrought the stamp of his 
 personality so deeply into his book, that those who know 
 him personally will be able to identify him on every page. 
 It is like renewing acquaintance with him to read his 
 account of the work of his Mission. 
 
 These pages were not printed, however, to arrange for 
 a visit with the worker. Their task is to bring the work 
 itself closer to your mind and heart. No doubt, you are 
 already interested in the work of the Lord in which 
 Brother Vande Water has been engaged for the last ten 
 years. If the reading of the book is bound to leave any 
 impression, it is that of the dire need of gospel-work 
 among the unhappy people of his Mission territory. It 
 certainly gives us joy that the Chicago churches are so 
 loyally sustaining their missionary representative in the 
 needful and noble work to which he has given his life so 
 whole-heartedly. As you read these sketches you thank 
 God for the work that is being done by the Helping Hand 
 Mission, and feel prompted to invoke God's continued
 
 blessing upon it. The book is well adapted to deepen and 
 strengthen your love for Missions among the apostates of 
 our central metropolis. 
 
 The work done to reclaim the unchurched may well 
 weigh heavy upon our hearts. Apostasy is alarmingly rife 
 in the land. On every hand we meet with godless educa- 
 tion, anti-Scriptural theology, deformed churches, worldly 
 church-members, faithless pulpiteers, and dangerous theo- 
 logical professors. Much of what pretends to be Chris- 
 tianity is decidedly Christless. If godliness be profitable 
 unto all things, its denial certainly must be fraught with 
 loss and shame. The pitiable people of Brother Vande 
 Water's care are in many instances proof that the Church 
 has not adequately functioned as the light of the world 
 and the salt of the earth. 
 
 God's people should do at least three things to stem the 
 tide of infidelity and anti-christianity that is rising higher 
 every day. They should stress positive Christian instruc- 
 tion from the kindergarten to the university. They should 
 be a city of God built on a hill, seen from afar and a beacon 
 to the dark world surrounding it. And lastly, they should 
 address themselves far more than they have done to the 
 solemn duty of seeking the wayward and wandering sheep, 
 in order that, by the help of God, those now straying may 
 return and find rest and security within the fold of the 
 Great Shepherd. 
 
 This book is published for the purpose of stimulating 
 interest in the work of the Helping Hand Mission. May 
 the gracious blessing of God richly attend its publication 
 and reading. May it enjoy a wide sale. And may the work 
 of its esteemed author give abundant occasion for rejoic- 
 ing to all who love God's Kingdom and to God's angels in 
 heaven, for many years to come. 
 
 S. VOLBEDA. 
 
 Grand Rapids, Michigan.
 
 PART I 
 OLD MADISON
 
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 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 Introduction, by Prof. S. Volbeda 5 
 
 Foreword, by Mr. J. Vande Water 7 
 
 PART I OLD MADISON 
 
 The Missions on Madison St 13 
 
 The Main Stem 16 
 
 The Hobo's Prayer 22 
 
 Jack of All Trades and Master of None 26 
 
 "I Am Not a Bum" 35 
 
 What God Made Out of a Glove-maker 39 
 
 Poor Clara 46 
 
 Two and a Half Hours in the Mission Hall 51 
 
 PART II OUR SLUM DISTRICT 
 
 Street Meetings 59 
 
 Too Much Religion 66 
 
 In the Clutches of Sin 72 
 
 Pattie and His Wife 83 
 
 The Cat and Bird Woman 88 
 
 Why I am What I am 95 
 
 What I was and What I am Now by the Grace 
 
 of God .. 101 
 
 She Burned the Bible with a Curse 109 
 
 I Have No Time 116 
 
 "Don't Talk to Me About that Stuff!" 123 
 
 "Mama, I Am So Cold!" 127 
 
 Things We Emphasize 130
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 13 
 
 THE MISSIONS ON MADISON STREET 
 
 MISSIONS are a plenty on old Madison 
 Street. Here and there we find as many 
 as two or three in one block. Most of these Mis- 
 sions are for the men who wander aimlessly up 
 and down the street, who want nothing to do but 
 loaf. I am sure that if all the men who hang 
 out on Madison Street would attend the Missions, 
 it would be more than necessary to open sev- 
 eral new ones. Many of these Missions are doing 
 good work, and some are doing better work than 
 others. 
 
 All Missions, as you well know, are not con- 
 ducted alike. The Gospel in some of these 
 Missions is represented as something cheap. Sin, 
 as the cause of man's separation from God, is 
 overlooked; only a loving Jesus is proclaimed. 
 Sometimes they even go as far as to fairly 
 drag men, who are under the influence of 
 liquor, to the altar, and often they are pro- 
 nounced "saved" before leaving it! The meet- 
 ings consist mainly of testimonies and song, and 
 the preaching of the pure gospel of salvation 
 is often forgotten. On the other hand, social 
 service plays a great part in the work. We will
 
 14 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 admit, however, that social service does have a 
 place in mission work, but not the chief place. 
 The first and great thing is to point out to man 
 that he is lost, ruined by sin; he must realize his 
 sinful condition, and cry to God: "Be merciful 
 to me, a sinner, and save me for Jesus' sake." 
 
 There are very few Missions which make 
 Christian work among the families their aim. This 
 is a sad fact, but nevertheless true. There is a 
 crying need among the families of the slum dis- 
 trict for the gospel. Thousands of men and 
 women, boys and girls, are hell-bound, and there 
 are but few to show them the Christ who died, 
 that those who believe in Him may be saved. 
 
 However, there are other great problems that 
 confront those who labor in the slum district. 
 Houses of ill fame are found here and there, 
 and what to do with them, how to wipe them 
 out, is a problem which has not yet been solved. 
 The reuniting of broken families, the proper care 
 of the children, and cleanliness in these homes, 
 are but a few of the many problems that 
 need serious attention. There is but one rem- 
 edy for them all, and that is the blood of Jesus 
 Christ, God's Son, which cleanses from all sin. 
 Thus family work is the chief work of our Chi- 
 cago City Missions. Our first effort is to win 
 the family for God and Christ. 
 
 The Church of Jesus Christ must he awak-
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 15 
 
 ened to see the awful conditions that exist and 
 must take a firm hand in the spreading of the 
 glorious gospel-message to those who are in the 
 clutches of sin. 
 
 The Christian Reformed Churches of Chi- 
 cago had their eyes opened by the grace of 
 God, to see at least some of the pressing needs 
 of the slums. They have opened mission sta- 
 tions in these parts in the name of the Lord, 
 with the solemn purpose to win souls for Him. 
 As we go from home to home we experience 
 many things which we believe cannot but open 
 the eyes of the readers to the great need of the 
 work. It is then our aim to give some of our 
 experiences in our work among families. Some 
 of these are sad, others humorous, still others 
 pleasant, and not a few very encouraging. 
 
 No doubt, all or the great majority of those 
 who read this book, are connected with a 
 Christian church and know well the way of sal- 
 vation. These pages will teach them nothing 
 about that Way which they do not know. But 
 men sometimes lose their relish for the Word 
 of God, when they have long been familiar with 
 it, even as the Israelites lost their relish for the 
 daily manna from heaven. May the articles 
 that follow help our readers to relish more 
 keenly that Bread of Life which is often un- 
 appreciated when it is plentiful.
 
 16 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 THE MAIN STEM 
 
 HOBOES? If you don't know just what they 
 look like, take a stroll down Madison 
 Street, which is called the "Main Stem." Every 
 hobo that comes into Chicago is introduced 
 immediately to Madison Street, with its cheap 
 restaurants, flop-houses, pool-rooms, and cheap 
 nickel shows, and it usually does not take a 
 hobo very long to find the places where he can 
 get a "free feed" and a "flop" for the night. 
 
 Missions on Madison Street are filled with 
 hoboes and men without homes, especially 
 during the winter months. They are not there 
 because they have a desire for the Gospel, but 
 are only seeking their physical comfort, a warm 
 place to stay. Most of that class of people have 
 little or no use for the Gospel, and if it were 
 not for the lunch they expect to get, they would 
 move out at the first sight of a gospel-meeting. 
 
 Hoboes can be divided into two groups: 
 
 I. Hoboes because they must be. 
 II. Hoboes because they want to be. 
 
 1. A man who is a hobo because he must be, 
 is the fellow who for some reason or other, 
 becomes "broke," and is "down and out."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 17 
 
 Therefore, in order to get along, he must first 
 sell or pawn his watch; then his overcoat and 
 suit follows the same course. He lives in a cheap 
 lodging-house, and eats cheap meals, for in- 
 stance: soup, bread, potatoes, hamburger 
 steak, and coffee all this for only twenty cents. 
 In the end, however, his pocket is flat he is 
 penniless and homeless. 
 
 How he does hate to be in such a condition 
 but he must be a bum ! However, a man who is 
 a bum because he must be one, does not remain 
 such any longer than is absolutely necessary. 
 He makes it his business to find work as soon as 
 possible, and earnestly tries to keep himself 
 clean. 
 
 A man who is a bum because he must be, 
 is quite easily distinguished from the other 
 class. He has self-respect, is willing to do work 
 of any nature, and is thoroughly ashamed of his 
 condition. He shows himself more than willing 
 to get out of the rut he has fallen into. He 
 wants to, and sincerely tries to be, a man. A 
 man in this class does not even care to associate 
 with the fellow who is a bum because he wants 
 to be, tries to ignore him entirely, and even 
 dislikes to sit with the man who is a bum by 
 choice. 
 
 The attitude of this class first mentioned, 
 toward religion is, on the whole, more favor-
 
 18 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 able than that of the second class. Quite a 
 number of these men carry a Bible with them, 
 and freely make use of it. 
 
 2. A hobo because he wants to be, is an alto- 
 gether different proposition. He is in a class 
 not hard to distinguish from the first class 
 named. A hobo once said to me : "I was born 
 a bum, I live a bum, and I shall die as a bum," 
 which is not far from the truth. Another one 
 said something like this: "The alley is my 
 bed, the curb my chair, and the cheap restau- 
 rant my eating place, and if there is no money 
 to buy something to eat, we find plenty in the 
 garbage cans." 
 
 The man who wants to be a bum is usually 
 very dirty. His hair is uncombed and un- 
 washed, almost dirty enough to stand of itself. 
 As to his face, it is often anything but pleas- 
 ant to look at. Deep hollows and lines are 
 seen, telling their own story of a hard, fast life. 
 As to taking a bath, I think he might collapse if 
 he got a real good scrubbing. If he has the 
 cash, he sleeps in the cheapest joints he can 
 find. He does not care if they are "crummy," 
 or lousy, for if the bugs become too numerous 
 for ordinary comfort, he takes off his shirt in 
 some alley, hangs it over a fence, and picks 
 off the offensive things. As to his clothing, he 
 usually wears it until it falls off his back.
 
 20 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 Quite a large percentage of this class are 
 moonshine drinkers. They hardly have a decent 
 piece of clothing on their bodies, yet they must 
 have a bottle of moonshine on their hips. In 
 the summer they are to be found especially in 
 the alleys, on the docks, and along the lake 
 front. They work a few hours a day, in order 
 to get a few dimes to see them through. Others 
 again, make it their business to "bum" every- 
 thing they need. As they go along the streets 
 they can be seen picking up cigar stubs; then 
 they go to a place, which they call Snipe alley, 
 cut the ends off the stubs, split them, and lay 
 them out in the sun to dry. In this manner they 
 keep themselves supplied with tobacco. 
 
 For curiosity's sake, I took one of these men 
 down into the clothing department of the Mis- 
 sion one day. I dressed him up just for the sake 
 of finding out what he had in his pockets. Out 
 came cigar stubs (both wet and dry), pieces of 
 bread, cheese, meat, buttons, safety pins, nails, 
 thread and needles; and when that fellow took 
 off his clothing, we noticed his body was cov- 
 ered with small sores. He was so lousy that 
 we felt like stepping back a few paces, and we 
 had to pick up his underwear with a poker in 
 order to put it into the furnace. 
 
 As to the respect for religion that this class 
 of people has, we can only say that they have
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 21 
 
 precious little, or none at all. They look upon 
 Missions and their workers as a "stunt" for 
 making an easy living. Some of them even go 
 so far as to call mission workers crooks, while 
 others look upon the Missions as organizations 
 that are in duty bound to help them in their 
 every need. I get the impression that many of 
 this class are gospel-hardened. 
 
 In prayer, especially, lies our weapon. It 
 is not only our talking to men, but also our 
 talking to God about men, and for men, that 
 will turn men to God. Let us not think too 
 highly of our power to persuade men. For then 
 we shall utterly fail. Only the voice of God can 
 reach men who are dead in sin. And even the 
 hobo is not fallen too deeply to be saved by the 
 grace of God.
 
 22 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 THE HOBO'S PRAYER 
 
 JACK is a young man of about thirty-five 
 years of age, a bright fellow in many ways, 
 and to all appearances he comes from a good 
 home. 
 
 "When I was twelve years old," Jack said, 
 "I beat it away from home, not letting my par- 
 ents know anything of my whereabouts. I don't 
 know whether they are dead or alive. I have 
 surely had some hard knocks since I left home, 
 and often wished I was back again; but I just 
 didn't have the nerve to try to find my parents. 
 I have done all sorts of work. Sometimes I had 
 rather a hard time to land a job, just because 
 people thought I was a bum. When I struck 
 Chicago I was able to pick up some small jobs, 
 but I soon found out that this city is no place 
 for a man who does not belong to a labor union. 
 Having no money for that, the best thing for me 
 to do was to get what odd jobs I could." 
 
 "I've traveled all over the country. Never 
 did I bum a feed. Am willing to work and don't 
 like to mix with that gang of fellows who are 
 too lazy to work. I got down here on old 
 Madison Street and you know what that is! I 
 got myself a job in a barrel-house down the
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 23 
 
 street. Don't like it a bit, for I must clean up 
 all the dirt around the place, and let me tell 
 you that a bunch of drunks don't care how 
 much dirt they make. It's a terrible place! 
 They rob the drunks and fight. I see some ter- 
 rible sights at times. It is no place for me, and 
 I must get out of there. Have been going by this 
 mission every day for the last two weeks. Now 
 I'm on the way to the glass-house in the next 
 block for glasses. They bust them by the whole- 
 sale in the barrel-house. Oh, I am so sick of the 
 job ! I don't like to live that way. I wish I could 
 get away from it. Will you please help me to 
 get away? Tell me how and what I must do." 
 
 "Young man," we said, "have you ever 
 thought of it, that God is able and willing to help 
 you out of your difficulty?" 
 
 "My mother used to talk to me about God. 
 She told me it was my duty to love God, but I 
 didn't care about it. For years I have heard very 
 little about God. Tell me about Him." 
 
 We pointed him to the Saviour, telling him 
 that he must learn to know himself as a sinner, 
 and find his salvation in Jesus. We proved to 
 him from the Bible that if he came to Jesus just 
 as he was and made an open confession of all his 
 sins, he would surely find relief. 
 
 "May I have that Bible?" he asked. 
 
 "Have you no Bible?"
 
 24 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 "No, I've neither had nor read a Bible since 
 I left home." 
 
 We gladly gave him the Bible, and prayed 
 with him. Then he left, promising to find 
 another job as soon as possible. The next day 
 he stopped at the Mission for a little chat. This 
 he did for several days. He was very much in- 
 terested in salvation. Even while at work in the 
 barrel-house he carried his Bible with him. 
 About ten days later he came to tell me that he 
 had a chance to get another job. 
 
 "What kind of a job can you get, Jack?" 
 
 "A fellow down the street offered me a job 
 cutting ice and I am going tonight. I want you 
 to pray for me before I go. I want God to go 
 with me." 
 
 Gladly we prayed with him and for him. 
 When we had finished praying, he prayed. And 
 this is what he said: 
 
 "0 Lord, I come to you and ask you to help 
 me. I want to get away from that barrel-house, 
 Lord; and now God, I've got a job on the ice. 
 I don't know what that ice work is, but you do. 
 I am glad I got that job, Lord, so I can get 
 away from that stuff. I know you are all 
 over. Will you go with me on the ice? Then I 
 need not fear. Forgive my sins and keep me. 
 Amen." 
 
 Jack left that same night for his new job.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 25 
 
 He made sure that he had his Bible with him. 
 We shook hands and bid him Godspeed, and 
 Jack was gone. A few days later we heard 
 from Jack, who wrote: 
 
 "Things are moving along fine. Like my 
 job. Enjoy reading the Bible. Pray for me." 
 
 .Several times again we heard from him and 
 we have reasons to believe that he is trying to 
 serve God to the very best of his knowledge. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Jack is not the only one we know who is in- 
 terested in the truth of God. We know not how 
 many are being brought to the Light through 
 our work. Some time ago another young man 
 wrote us a letter reading as follows : 
 
 "A few nights ago I attended one of your 
 open air meetings. I sure enjoyed the singing. 
 The preaching hit me hard. I am a different 
 man today. I believe I am saved. I am work- 
 ing in the woods now in northern Michigan. 
 Please send me a Bible at once." 
 
 The Bible was sent, and gratefully ac- 
 knowledged. 
 
 If we sow the good seed of the Word, God 
 will take care of the reaping.
 
 26 
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 JACK OF ALL TRADES, AND MASTER 
 OF NONE 
 
 IN A SMALL HUT, in one of our Western 
 States, there were seated around the table, 
 watching the last rays of the setting sun, a man 
 and wife, with their son, named Bill. It is about 
 this boy Bill that I wish to tell you. 
 
 Bill is a great, big, husky fellow, about six 
 feet tall, having shaggy hair and deeply set 
 sharp blue eyes, broad shoulders, and long, 
 loose arms. Bill said he came from a good 
 home. His mother, he claimed, was a mighty fine 
 woman, the best in the land, sympathetic, gentle, 
 and a friend to everybody. His father was an 
 indifferent kind of a man, caring little about 
 anything, and coarse in every respect. He was 
 a heavy drinker. When sober he was a good 
 sort to get along with, but a devil when drunk. 
 He always had booze in the house, and when 
 Bill was around, and he usually was, he got his 
 share of it, so that Bill was taught the love of 
 drink while still in his teens. And still Bill 
 says, "I came from a good home." 
 
 When Bill was sixteen years of age, he be- 
 came dissatisfied with the life he was leading 
 at home, and wanted to see more of the world; 
 so one night when all was quiet and his parents
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 27 
 
 were asleep, Bill softly stepped out of the front 
 door, and started on his journey to see the world 
 and to make his own living, with but a few 
 cents in his pockets. 
 
 From place to place Bill traveled, and not 
 having a great surplus of funds, he often had 
 to walk great distances, thus becoming weary 
 and footsore; but never did Bill think of re- 
 turning to his home. He was out on a new ad- 
 venture and was determined to see it through. 
 Bill worked off and on, doing odd jobs at the 
 different towns he came to, but worked only 
 enough to keep himself in "eat and flop money," 
 as he called it, caring for little else. 
 
 The time came that Bill took a stronger lik- 
 ing for liquor. At first he was a very moderate 
 drinker. He would not get drunk, only would 
 take a drink now and then to be sociable, but 
 alas, it did not take long before the drink habit 
 got the best of him, and it would have been an 
 unusual sight if Bill was not seen staggering 
 down the streets. 
 
 With all this, Bill managed to find himself 
 a wife. She was a very quiet young woman, 
 with a sweet and winning disposition. After a 
 courtship of about a year, in which Bill gave 
 up the habit of drink, they got married, and 
 settled down to a quiet life on a little farm in 
 Hinckley, Minnesota. Their home was built on
 
 28 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 a lonely spot, with the woods surrounding them 
 practically on all sides, and a river several rods 
 from the house. There were no neighbors for 
 miles around. 
 
 When they were settled in their new home, 
 Bill secured a job as a railroad man, and 
 worked hard and steady for a number of years, 
 supporting his wife and their three little chil- 
 dren which were born to them. Happy were 
 they together, and life seemed to go on 
 smoothly. How fortunate that they did not 
 know what disaster lay ahead of them ! 
 
 One day while Bill was at work, a message 
 came to him to hurry home, as his house and 
 all the wooded land round about it was on fire. 
 Needless to say, Bill dropped his tools and 
 started with a rush on his way homeward. For 
 miles and miles he hurried down the track, 
 stopping only now and then to gasp for breath, 
 and the nearer he came to his home, the more 
 anxious he became. Hotter and hotter the at- 
 mosphere grew, and Bill's heart began to sink 
 within him. At last he came to the river bridge 
 which he must cross, but it was gone, the 
 flames having swept it away. What must he 
 do? Wildly he looked about him, the smell of 
 burning wood reaching him, and bringing him 
 to his senses, making him realize that beyond 
 the river were his wife and three children.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 29 
 
 Without another thought he threw off his coat, 
 and madly plunged into the water, which was 
 steaming of the heat, and he began to swim 
 across. He had all he could do to reach the 
 other side, the heat stifling and weakening him, 
 but finally he got there and pulled himself to 
 the shore. He climbed on top of a hill from 
 where he could look upon his little home. It 
 was gone! With great fear in his heart he ran 
 on and on, as fast as his feet would carry him. 
 When he came near to the place which had 
 once been his home, he suddenly stopped, as if 
 shot. His eyes beheld the most terrible sight 
 he had ever seen in his life. There, amidst the 
 ruins and the ashes of what had once been their 
 home, lay his wife, with a child in each arm, 
 and the third one only a few feet away 
 burned to death! They were blackened and 
 burned beyond recognition. The mother lay 
 in a crouched position^ ^s if she had made a last 
 effort to get away from it all, but too late! 
 
 The sight of this scene nearly drove Bill 
 insane. He had no religion, thus no One to go 
 to with this great sorrow. The loss of his dear 
 wife and children, and in fact, of all that he 
 possessed, drove him, in despair, again to drink. 
 
 A year later Bill married again. This time, 
 however, to a woman of little account. For 
 some time they lived together, the one not caring
 
 30 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 for the other, and both leading a reckless life. 
 Bill soon discovered that his wife was even 
 worse than he. She was not a drinking woman, 
 but night after night she would roam the streets, 
 running after other men. This was too much 
 for Bill, and it got on his nerves, with the result 
 that he divorced her. It only made her a worse 
 woman, however, than before, as she became 
 a public street-walker. 
 
 After this experience it did not take long 
 before Bill became a miserable drunkard and a 
 tramp. For years he wandered about the 
 country, spending his time in drinking and loaf- 
 ing at public houses. Finally he landed 
 in Chicago. 
 
 On a certain day Bill stopped at the Mission 
 and rented a small room at $1.25 per week. As 
 long as Bill kept sober all went well, but when 
 he got drunk we were compelled to put him 
 out, according to our rule that no men under the 
 influence of liquor are allowed to remain. When 
 he again became sober he would come back, ask 
 to be forgiven, and once more would be given a 
 room. For a time all goes well, but the booze is too 
 strong a temptation for Bill and he goes on 
 another drunk. This takes place time and again. 
 
 In the winter of 1922, Bill got a job playing 
 Santa Glaus for the Volunteers of America, on 
 one of the busy streets in the loop. At the same
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 31 
 
 time one of the Chicago daily papers was offer- 
 ing a prize of Fifty Dollars for the politest man 
 in Chicago. A newspaper-man stopped to talk 
 to Bill one day, and after a lengthy and some- 
 what trying conversation, Bill was picked as 
 the politest man in Chicago. His picture was 
 taken and printed in a prominent part of the 
 paper, accompanied with a fine write-up, and 
 Bill was handed a check of Fifty Dollars. For 
 a time he was hailed as the politest bum on 
 Madison Street. This was too much for Bill, 
 so he decided to celebrate the event by getting 
 drunk, and drunk he did get, so that within a 
 few days he was again penniless. When Bill 
 got over the Fifty Dollar spree, he seemed to 
 realize that his whole life was a failure, and 
 that if he kept on that way, he would soon be 
 in a drunkard's grave. 
 
 During this time Bill attended the meetings 
 at the Mission whenever he was sober, and 
 thus far it seemed that all the personal work 
 done with him for his soul's salvation was in 
 vain. However, now that he began to realize 
 somewhat his desperate condition, he asked for 
 prayer and instruction, taking an interest in the 
 preaching, and he was talked to and prayed for 
 more than ever. Finally he took a stand, de- 
 termined to give up drink and all sin, and be- 
 come a Christian. For some time things go
 
 32 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 along smoothly in his life. He enjoys the meet- 
 ings, he loves to sing, and read his Bible, but 
 the devil hangs out his shingle for Bill's pet sin 
 drink. He fights it for a time, but has not 
 enough will-power to give it up. Poor Bill! He 
 goes back to drink, and once more he is held 
 in its terrible grip. One can't help but feel 
 sorry for him. Bill then told us he was going to 
 leave the City to work in a railroad camp, 
 which, of course, is the worst place for a man 
 like him to go. 
 
 For a long time we heard nothing of Bill, and 
 did not know whether he was dead or alive, 
 until one day, when we were at the Poor Farm, 
 visiting from ward to ward, whom should we 
 see, but Bill! There he sat, in the corner by 
 the window of one of the dining rooms, deeply 
 engrossed in the study of Christian Science. He 
 told us he had taken up Christian Science, and 
 seemed to be quite absorbed in it. He stuck to 
 this for a time, but at last saw the foolishness 
 of this teaching, and he is through with it once 
 and for all. 
 
 Being a good worker and a big-hearted fel- 
 low, Bill was taken from the poor-house to 
 work for a well-to-do man. This job he held 
 for but a short time, as an accident, together 
 with the effects of the great quantities of moon- 
 shine that he drank, caused his eye-sight to fail.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 33 
 
 Again he came back to his old friend, the 
 Mission, and talked of the good old days when 
 his voice joined the others in the singing of 
 hymns and the study of the Bible, but it's not 
 all gone, he said, I still have some of it in my 
 heart. He told me how he once made a Jew sit 
 up and take notice through the singing of a 
 hymn. One day while peddling, he stopped 
 in a Jew shop and asked the fellow in charge 
 if he would buy some of his goods. All he got 
 was a rough answer: "No, get out of here." 
 Bill politely said: "Thank you," and turned to 
 leave. As he left he hummed a tune of a hymn 
 he knew. He was just going to open the door, 
 when the keeper of the store quickly called him 
 back, asking: "Why do you take things so 
 good naturedly?" "Why," Bill said, "God taught 
 me how to do it." The storekeeper wanted to 
 know all about it, so he told him the best way 
 he could, what he had to do to get what Bill had. 
 "I told him that he must believe in Jesus Christ," 
 Bill said, "and pray from the heart, '0 God, be 
 merciful to me, a sinner.' " 
 
 Bill is truly sorry for his wasted life. He is 
 no more a mocker of religion, as he formerly 
 was. He told me how at one time he got down 
 on his knees and let a personal worker pray for 
 him, just to give the man a little satisfaction. 
 Neither is it necessary to use "muscular Chris-
 
 34 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 tianity" with him now. At one time he became 
 so abusive and insulting, that it was necessary 
 to knock him down and then have him carted 
 to the police station. Today he is as meek as 
 a lamb, with a pleasantness about him which 
 is not of man, but of God. 
 
 Now Bill says: "I am mighty sorry for my 
 wasted life, and I do want to be a good man. 
 I want to live for God and serve Him the rest 
 of my days. I am away from drink forever. I 
 have learned my lesson, and know that I am lost 
 without Christ, and am bound to go straight." 
 
 We are glad to say that Big Bill, as he is 
 sometimes called, after a hard life of sin, is 
 striving to serve God and seeking to spend the 
 last years of his life in the service of the Master, 
 and this is his favorite Bible passage: "The 
 wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal 
 life in Jesus Christ our Lord."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 35 
 
 "I AM NOT A BUM!' 
 
 ""JV/TAY I talk privately with you, Mr. Sup- 
 1VJL erintendent? I am not a bum. I have 
 been in the hospital for a long time. There was 
 a time in my life when I was well fixed. When 
 my daddy died he left me ten thousand dollars 
 and his business. I had a wife, and as good a 
 little woman as God ever let live. I also had two 
 sweet little girls and we were happy. But one 
 day the tide changed; my wife was taken sick 
 and died. It broke me all up. Shortly after her 
 death both of my children died and I was left 
 alone. I became so discouraged that I did not 
 care what happened. I fell to drinking, and in 
 a short time I had lost all my money and my 
 business. I stood penniless in the world. My 
 folks turned me down." 
 
 "I got myself a job as a telegraph operator 
 and made good money, but I could not save a 
 cent. I was a slave of drink and realized it, 
 but too late. I figured I was about at the end of 
 my rope. Wife and children, relatives and 
 friends gone, I felt myself a hopeless wretch. I 
 don't know what to do, something just seemed
 
 36 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 to make me come to you. Do you think you 
 can do anything for me? It is not money I am 
 asking for. What I want is good advice. I want 
 to be a better man." 
 
 "I asked him if he had ever talked to God 
 about his condition. To this his answer was: 
 "I never thought of that. I used to be religious, 
 but I had so many ups and downs in life that I 
 lost faith in religion." 
 
 We pointed out to him that salvation was his 
 greatest need. We made clear to him that al- 
 though all the world has failed us, God would 
 not fail us if we trust Him. We assured him of 
 God's help if he would come in the divinely 
 appointed way. We read to him a few passages 
 from God's Word. We quoted the promise of 
 Jesus : "Him that cometh unto Me, I shall in no 
 wise cast out." We told him of Paul who said 
 he was the chief of sinners, and yet found sal- 
 vation in Jesus Christ. We also told him of the 
 murderers who were crucified with Jesus, and 
 how one cried: "Lord, remember me when 
 Thou hast come into Thy Kingdom"; and how 
 Jesus answered: "This day thou shalt be with 
 Me in Paradise." And finally we told him about 
 the publican who cried, "God, be merciful to me, a 
 sinner." With tears in his eyes he left.
 
 38 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 This is but one of the many human wrecks 
 we have to deal with in our work. There are 
 thousands like him who are being tossed about 
 on the sea of life, without God, without hope 
 for this life and the life to come. 
 
 Should the Christian Church not do more for 
 the salvation of the many hopeless, helpless 
 souls round about us?
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 39 
 
 WHAT GOD MADE OUT OF A GLOVE-MAKER 
 
 WHAT a crowd! What were all those 
 people gazing at so interestedly? If you 
 had been walking along the streets in the slum 
 district of Chicago, you would involuntarily 
 have joined the throng that had gathered at one 
 of the corners. There, in the gutter, was a young 
 man, intoxicated almost to the point of insensi- 
 bility. Vile words proceeded out of his mouth, 
 and he cursed everything and everybody 
 round about him. The men about him 
 laughed, and the more they laughed, the angrier 
 the man became. What a pitiable sight ! A man 
 in the prime of his strength, wasting it in such 
 a manner! At last a kind-hearted bum picked 
 him up and away he walked with him, stagger- 
 ing to and fro. The good-natured bum practically 
 had to drag him to a place of safety and away 
 from the curious gaze of the public. 
 
 One Thursday night, while in the midst of my 
 speech, the Mission door opened and in walked 
 a stranger. I instantly recognized him as the 
 man whom I had seen lying in the gutter a few 
 weeks ago. After the meeting I made it a point 
 to stop and speak to this man, asking him his
 
 40 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 name, which was Harry, and invited him to 
 come again. 
 
 Harry came often to the meetings at the Mis- 
 sion, and we learned that he was kind at heart 
 and a lover of fun. One night, however, he 
 came in far, in fact very far, from being sober, 
 talking boisterously and laughing long and loud 
 at his own jokes, which were not of the best. I 
 took him by the arm, intending to put him out, 
 but looking at him rather closely and steadily, I 
 saw something in the eye of that man that I did 
 not see in the eyes of the other men that I came 
 in contact with from day to day. "Stop," some- 
 thing seemed to say within me, "don't put him 
 out, keep him here" and before Harry knew 
 what I was about, and giving him no time to pro- 
 test, I lifted him off his feet, and carried him up 
 two flights of stairs. Upon reaching one of the 
 lodging-rooms I gladly set my load down, took 
 Harry's clothes off and tucked him in bed, giv- 
 ing him a last warning "Don't you dare get 
 out!" I did not get any response from him, 
 since he was too dazed to answer and really did 
 not know what had transpired; but for fear he 
 might walk out during the night, I locked him 
 in the room and put the key in my pocket. 
 Harry was our prisoner for the time being. 
 
 The next morning I opened the door, and 
 there sat Harry on the edge of the bed, all
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 41 
 
 dressed and patiently waiting for me to leave 
 him out. We went down stairs together into 
 the office to have a talk. I had hoped to find 
 out what we could do for Harry, to help him on 
 to a better and far saner life. He told me he 
 got married rather young, and the steady grind 
 of a married man's life became rather a heavy 
 load for him, and with no prospect of his bur- 
 dens being lightened, he became downhearted 
 and blue, and the best thing he thought for him 
 to do was to take a drink in order to drown all 
 his trials and troubles. He took the drink, but 
 found, to his great disappointment, that his 
 troubles were not lessened or drowned, but that 
 they increased considerably, for when he came 
 home "stewed", as he put it, "my wife would be 
 waiting for me, and then the fun would begin, 
 for she sure would raise cain with me." Harry 
 soon got sick and tired of that, too, as one can 
 well imagine, so in another effort to forget it all, 
 he drank more than ever; and without any con- 
 cern for his wife and children, he left his home 
 and family to shift for himself. 
 
 I talked with Harry for quite a while, point- 
 ing out to him the evils of drink, that it would 
 ruin his life and bring him very low, and telling 
 him of a better life the life in Christ Jesus. After 
 a pause he suddenly sprang from his chair, and 
 said in a tone of disgust, and with intense irri-
 
 42 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 tation: "I can't fool around here with you, lis- 
 tening to that kind of dope. I've got to get a job 
 if I want something to eat." Patiently I listened 
 to him, talking to him kindly, and giving him 
 his breakfast. When he left me that morning 
 I asked him to come back again. 
 
 In the evening, to my surprise, Harry re- 
 turned, sober. He told me later that my kind- 
 ness to him had kept him from taking a drink 
 that day. For a long time Harry roomed at the 
 Mission, and only once during that time did I 
 notice that he had been drinking again. I took 
 him to task, and said: "Harry, you have been 
 drinking." He smiled and called me a "sharper." 
 
 After being at the Mission four months, 
 Harry came to me rather shamefacedly one day 
 and said: "Van, I've kept the truth from you 
 long enough. I simply can't keep it away from 
 you any longer, and must tell you. Only a short 
 distance from this Mission I have a wife and 
 three children. I deserted them because of 
 drink. I know I am a fool. I've been a fool 
 all my life, and I can't stand it any longer. I 
 have listened to you and others preach the gos- 
 pel, and it has touched me considerably, and 
 now I realize that my first job is come clean. So 
 there, I have told you all." After the confession, 
 with a dejected air, as if all hope for the future 
 was gone for him, he sat down.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 43 
 
 I asked him what he was going to do about 
 it, but he was at a loss to know just what to do. 
 Finally I persuaded him to write his wife a let- 
 ter, which he did much against his will, but to 
 this letter he received no reply whatsoever. 
 Once more I asked him to write, which he at 
 first absolutely refused to do, but after coax- 
 ing him and showing him the necessity of it, 
 he wrote a second letter. This last letter I 
 mailed myself, putting a special delivery stamp 
 on it, but neither did he receive a response to 
 that one. A few weeks slipped by, and nothing 
 was heard from Harry's wife. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon a lady walked into the 
 Mission, taking a seat well to the front. I wel- 
 comed her, asking her name, which she gave 
 very willingly. Harry was also in the meeting 
 that afternoon, and as I walked to the back of 
 the building, excitedly he grasped me by the 
 arm, saying: "That lady that just came in, she 
 is my wife." It was a most difficult job for 
 Harry to tell me this, for he was all choked up, 
 but nothing more was said. 
 
 When the meeting was over I made it my 
 duty to see that Harry's wife did not get out of 
 our sight. I talked to her for a while and in- 
 vited her to go into the inquirer's room. We 
 talked together for a while and after a lengthy 
 conversation she promised to give her husband
 
 44 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 another chance to make good. I called Harry 
 into the room, and there he came, trembling 
 from head to foot, with a face as red as a beet. 
 They stared at one another, but not a sound 
 escaped from their lips. The silence became op- 
 pressive. Finally I asked: "Well, Harry, here 
 is your wife. What are you going to do about it 
 now?" The strain was too much for Harry, and 
 he broke down and cried bitterly. 
 
 What a confession he did make to God, and 
 also to his wife for the treatment he gave her! 
 Words cannot sufficiently express what he said, 
 but it certainly was a confession that came from 
 the bottom of his heart. After this they kissed 
 one another and made up, with the tears trick- 
 ling down their faces, and we three got down on 
 our knees and thanked and prayed to God to 
 take care of them and their children, to keep 
 them on the right path, and help them to live a 
 life to his honor and glory. That very afternoon 
 Harry and his wife returned home together, 
 happy as could be. 
 
 Some months later Harry stopped at the 
 Mission to tell us some good news. It was good 
 news, indeed, the kind that we love to hear 
 best of all. This is what Harry said : "My wife 
 and I are both converted. Jesus is our Saviour. 
 We have both joined the Church and we have 
 had our children baptized. Say, let me tell you,
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 45 
 
 that is a better life than fighting the booze. We 
 are just as happy as can be." 
 
 We thank God for answered prayer. Harry 
 and his family are doing fine. He works every 
 day, making gloves for others, and as he works 
 he has the sunshine of God's love in his heart.
 
 46 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 POOR CLARA 
 
 IN JULY, 1919, a certain woman made her way 
 to the City of Chicago in a coal car. When 
 she arrived she roamed about the streets, with- 
 out money, without home, and caring little 
 where she went. One day in her ramblings she 
 noticed a sign in a window which attracted her 
 attention. It read thus: The Helping Hand 
 Mission. A meeting was in progress so the 
 woman walked in and sat down in one of the 
 rear benches to rest a bit, for she was very tired 
 and worn. 
 
 At the close of the meeting we made it a point 
 to talk to her, hoping to find out what we could 
 do for her, since she seemed to be in trouble. 
 We noticed that her face and hands were as 
 black as coal, and asked if she would like to 
 wash herself. Abruptly she answered: "Don't 
 bother me. I am tired, hungry, and disgusted. 
 Don't talk to me now." We waited for a short 
 tihie and then again made an attempt to hold a 
 conversation with her. We asked : "Is it work 
 that you want?" 
 
 "Work? I've run my legs off trying to find 
 something to do. Nobody wants me, nobody 
 cares for me."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 47 
 
 We told her we knew of One who did care 
 for her. 
 
 "I would like to know who that is !" 
 
 We answered: "God cares for you. His 
 Word tells us that we may bring all our troubles 
 to Him, that He is able and willing to supply all 
 our needs out of His fulness. Did you ever ask 
 God for a job?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I am sure that if you take your trials to 
 God and ask Him for a job you will get one." 
 
 "I don't pray." 
 
 We impressed upon her mind the need of 
 God. She informed us then that her name was 
 Clara. 
 
 "Clara," we said, "you must ask God for a 
 job." 
 
 "These words seemed to touch her and 
 shortly afterwards she walked out of the Mis- 
 sion. We lost sight of Clara until the following 
 day, when about noon she returned. This time 
 she was quite happy. 
 
 "How are you today, Clara?" 
 
 "Oh, I've got a job. I thought those things 
 over which you told me, as I laid on a bunch of 
 straw in an old woodshed last night, and I just 
 said: 'God give me a job.' I went out this 
 morning and got a job washing dishes in a res- 
 taurant. I go to work at three this afternoon."
 
 48 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 For a time all went well. Now and then 
 Clara would attend the gospel meetings, but 
 she again became discouraged, for she lost her 
 job. This time, however, she was not without 
 money, and she used it to become intoxicated. 
 Coming to the Mission one day, in a drunken 
 condition, she took the butcher knife from the 
 kitchen table with the intention of taking her 
 own life. We succeeded in getting the knife 
 out of her hands, made her sit down and gave 
 her a cup of strong black coffee. This, of course, 
 made Clara very sick. We took her home and 
 put her to bed to sleep off her drunk. A few 
 days later she again came to the Mission, more 
 reasonable than at any other time. We offered 
 to do for her all we could to find her a job. 
 
 To many places was Clara sent, but she 
 always came back with the answer: "The job 
 is taken," or, "they don't want me." There was 
 only one thing left for us to do, and that was to 
 make a job. She was given a letter of introduc- 
 tion, together with an assortment of wall mot- 
 toes, and then sent out into the neighborhoods of 
 church people, who helped her greatly by buy- 
 ing mottoes. 
 
 One rainy day she stopped in at the home of 
 the pastor of one of our Chicago churches, 
 drenched to the skin. She was asked to come in 
 to stay a few moments to dry her clothing and
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 49 
 
 have a bite to eat. This kindness Clara never 
 forgot. The more she came in contact with 
 Christian people, the more she was convinced 
 that after all there was some who did care and 
 were interested in her. 
 
 For seven months Clara sold mottoes, mak- 
 ing a fairly good living, even being able to lay 
 aside a few pennies for a rainy day. By this 
 time Clara had become quite interested in the 
 gospel meetings. She was present at every 
 meeting, and when she was in trouble, would 
 come and tell us about it. 
 
 But poor Clara! Her mind became unbal- 
 anced. Sometimes the poor girl hardly knew 
 what she was doing. One day while Miss Ter 
 Borg was visiting her, she drove her from the 
 room with a butcher knife. Since she had be- 
 come dangerous it was necessary to bring her to 
 an asylum. There we visited her several times. 
 She was always glad to have us come, but at 
 last became so tired of asylum life, that she ran 
 away and came back to Chicago, walking a dis- 
 tance of seventy miles. 
 
 For more than a year she remained in Chi- 
 cago, doing cleaning work, and getting along 
 very well. Never did she neglect to attend the 
 meetings and always she had a good word for 
 the work of the Helping Hand Mission.
 
 50 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 One day Clara disappeared. No one knew 
 her whereabouts. We let a few days slip by, 
 then went to her room to see if we could dis- 
 cover anything which might serve as a clew. 
 We found her belongings, amongst which was a 
 Bible showing considerable wear, tracts, and a 
 few gospels. Clara was by no means indiffer- 
 ent to religion. Often she had talked of her 
 love for Jesus, and her sorrow for the many 
 wasted years. Now no one seemed to know 
 where Clara had gone. Apparently she had left 
 Chicago. 
 
 A week passed by, when we received word 
 from her mother, stating: "Clara is dead. 
 Found dying in a rooming house in Michigan." 
 
 According to the information we received, 
 her death was somewhat of a mystery. 
 
 Poor Clara! But, perhaps, she is not to be 
 commiserated any more. We have hopes that 
 she was no stranger to the love that is- stronger 
 than death.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 51 
 
 TWO AND A HALF HOURS IN THE 
 MISSION HALL 
 
 IT WAS a cold winter day, hardly fit for one 
 to be out upon the street. Madison Street 
 looked rather forsaken, now and then a few 
 scantily dressed men walked hurriedly down the 
 street, coat-collar turned up and hands over 
 their ears, making their way to the Mission to 
 find a place of shelter from the cold. It was 
 about meeting time and we went down into the 
 Mission hall. It was crowded with men. For a 
 moment we studied the faces of some of them. 
 What a story many a face told! One did not 
 need to ask what their history was, for it was 
 written on their faces. They told a story of mis- 
 ery, excessive drinking, of homelessness, of in- 
 sufficient clothing. Some of them did not even 
 know where they were to sleep that night. A 
 few asked to sleep on the hard benches in the 
 Mission-hall, others asked for a bite to eat, 
 others were fast asleep; some were talking to- 
 gether and others were giving information as 
 to what Mission gave the best "free feed", as 
 they called it. Here and there in the hall sat 
 a man reading his testament, but others furtively
 
 52 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 drank from bottles of moonshine which they 
 had in their pockets. Profanity was common. 
 
 It is now about three o'clock. A few work- 
 ers have come to assist in the Gospel meetings, 
 and we go into the back room for prayer, asking 
 God to give us the guidance of His .Spirit that 
 we may sing and speak the Gospel aright. After 
 a bit the player sits down at the, piano and be- 
 gins to play; there is a stir among the men, those 
 who sleep wake up, hats come off, and the 
 first number is given, "Love Lifted Me." Some 
 of the men get up and leave. They don't want 
 to hear the Gospel! The Mission is alright for 
 them to get warm in, but for the rest, no good; 
 some even make sarcastic remarks before leav- 
 ing. By the time we have finished the singing 
 of the first song, there are about 50 or 60 men left 
 in the hall. We sing again, read a portion of 
 Scripture and pray. Once again we sing, and a 
 few more leave; they enjoy the singing but 
 don't want to listen to the preaching of the 
 Gospel. We begin to talk on the words taken 
 from Isaiah 55 : 6, "Seek the Lord while He is to 
 be found, call upon Him while He is near." Some 
 listen attentively, others settle down in their 
 seats to sleep, and must be awakened repeat- 
 edly. Others seem to listen but do not hear. A 
 few pay close attention to what is said. With 
 their Bible open before them, they listen to our
 
 c 
 B 
 
 9 
 
 s
 
 54 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 message. The "sermon" is short, and when it is 
 finished we sing once more, close with prayer, 
 and the meeting was over. Some personal work 
 is done, of course, this one and that one is ap- 
 proached on the question of salvation. Some- 
 times the conversation is rather interesting, es- 
 pecially when questions are asked. A few ask for 
 a Testament. About 5 p. m. the Mission is 
 about empty, the men are all gone to the haunts 
 and "flop houses" for the night; those who have 
 asked to be allowed to sleep on the benches sit 
 around for a while, while others hurry to some 
 other Mission for free coffee and a sandwich. 
 
 Such is the life of hundreds of men who live 
 on Madison Street. What a life! What a life! 
 No hope for this life, no hope for the life to 
 come. Careless and reckless about their bodies 
 and souls, they are bound for a sinner's Christ- 
 less grave. What great blessings we have, who 
 were born and reared in Christian homes ! How 
 thankful we should be, dear readers, that it has 
 pleased God to save us and give us in our hearts 
 the light of His blessed salvation. We, by 
 nature, are no better than they; it is only the 
 grace of God that we are what we are. .Shall 
 we not, as followers of Christ, realize more and 
 more what our duty is toward those who know 
 not Him, those in the home-land as well as those 
 in the dark lands of heathendom ?
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 55 
 
 If our hearts were truly filled with a passion 
 for souls, how much more could be done and 
 given for the extension of God's cause here upon 
 this earth ! In closing there comes to our mind 
 the words of a certain hymn : "Silver and gold, 
 dear Lord I have not, but what I have I give, 
 take me." 
 
 May our prayer be to the Lord of sovereign 
 grace, as we bow before His throne : 
 
 Spread through the earth, O Lord, 
 The knowledge of Thy ways; 
 And let all lands with joy record 
 The great Redeemer's praise.
 
 PART II 
 OUR SLUM DISTRICT
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 59 
 
 STREET MEETINGS 
 
 IN THIS large city of ours, there are many 
 people who have no desire whatsoever to 
 attend services in a Church or Mission hall. 
 They absolutely refuse to put their foot inside 
 of the building, giving all sorts of excuses, such 
 as: "The Missions are fakers," "Religion is 
 only bunk," or, "I stand as good a chance of 
 going to Heaven as the fellow who always sits 
 in Church." 
 
 Because of the many people who cannot be 
 reached in any other way, we conduct open air 
 meetings during the summer months. These 
 meetings are held in different parts of the slum 
 neighborhood, and are conducted by a group of 
 young people consisting of a few players, sing- 
 ers, and speakers. Our only musical instru- 
 ments are a small street organ and a drum. 
 These things are necessary to attract the atten- 
 tion of the people, and it does not take long 
 before we have quite an audience gathered 
 round about us to see "what all the noise is 
 about." 
 
 Our first stop for an open air meeting is on 
 Peoria and Madison Streets. Here we find a 
 large number of bums, both sober and drunk,
 
 60 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 who sit for hours on the curb, talking, smoking 
 and drinking, especially when the sun goes 
 down. As soon as they hear the singing of the 
 gospel-songs and the beat of the drum, some 
 get up and move away far enough so that they 
 will not hear the words that are spoken. Others 
 come a little closer. After the singing, by which 
 several people have been attracted to the corner, 
 we speak to them concerning the things they 
 need for their soul. 
 
 How well I remember the night when a man 
 threw a chair at me, which went over my head, 
 struck an iron post, and fell with a crash into 
 kindling wood! At another time, a man threw 
 an empty whisky bottle from a third story win- 
 dow. It landed directly behind a few of our 
 faithful lady singers. One night, after singing 
 a dozen or more songs, and when it seemed 
 impossible to get a crowd, a drunk came to this 
 corner. As we sang he commenced to dance, 
 and say, how that fellow could dance ! A large 
 crowd gathered in only a few moments! There 
 were at least two hundred people. This gave us 
 a fine opportunity to bring the Gospel to them. 
 
 While holding a meeting on this same corner, 
 on another evening, two young men, twenty- 
 five and twenty-one years of age respectively, 
 stood upon the curb, drinking in, as it were, 
 every word spoken. At the close of the meeting,
 
 V 
 
 cu 
 
 w 
 
 o 
 O
 
 62 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 the youngest man came to us, with tears stream- 
 ing down his cheeks, exclaiming: "Oh that 
 good old Gospel, it's the same as my mother 
 taught me, but I left it !" The other young man 
 handed us a letter, saying: "I intended to take 
 my own life. I heard the singing and came 
 over to see what it was. Now I see that what 
 I was about to do is wrong." Both men were 
 taken to the Mission, where we talked and 
 prayed, urging them to give their hearts to God. 
 We assured these young men of the great joy 
 there is in salvation for those who believe. 
 
 Now let us go to the tenement district. The 
 gospel truck stops within a short distance 
 from the corner. The workers form a half cir- 
 cle, and soon we are ready to begin. Here we 
 find hundreds of families who never attend a 
 Church or Mission, whose children seldom if 
 ever, hear the story of the way of Life. At the 
 first sound of the organ and the drum, a large 
 number of boys and girls come running out of 
 the alleys. Windows are opened, and the men 
 and women sit there to listen. On the corner 
 stands a woman, her clothing half torn off. She 
 is under the influence of liquor, and when she 
 hears the singing and speaking, comes swaying 
 to and fro toward one of the workers, handing 
 her the last penny she has, stating that she
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 63 
 
 wants to be converted. Becoming rather too 
 noisy, she must be led away. 
 
 Across the street on the third floor of the 
 building, a man sits in the window, trying to 
 catch the words of the singers and the speaker. 
 At length he comes down, walks up to one of the 
 workers, asking : "Will one of you please come 
 and pray for my wife? She is very sick, and I 
 am afraid she is going to die." We promised to 
 come as soon as the meeting was over. After 
 the meeting we climbed up the old stairway, 
 feeling our way up as best we could, for it was 
 very dark. Upon entering the room our eyes 
 immediately fell upon the sick wife, who was 
 lying on an old bed in one corner of the room. 
 What a deplorable sight she was! And 
 such a room they lived in! Seeing a bottle of 
 moonshine on the table, which stood in the 
 center of the room, we asked: "Who does that 
 bottle belong to?" "That's mine," was the 
 quick reply of the man. "I take a drink of that 
 every once in a while to forget my troubles. My 
 wife also takes a little drink now and then." 
 We soon discovered that drink was responsible 
 for the woman's condition. We then told both 
 man and wife of One who was able to help them 
 in their troubles. Before we left we prayed 
 with and for them. The next day the woman 
 had gone into Eternity, her lot decided forever!
 
 64 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 The husband continues to drink and to live with- 
 out God. 
 
 The gospel truck, with another band of wil- 
 ling workers, travels on to a different corner. 
 This time, a rather busy street. Greek, Italian, 
 and Polish people gather around us, men, wo- 
 men and children, even the saloon keeper, stop- 
 ping to listen to the Gospel message. Next a 
 Catholic priest comes into view, takes a few 
 children out of the crowd, and sends them home. 
 Men walk by, calling out at the top of their 
 voices: "Shut up!" "Get out of hfere, you 
 grafters!" Many other insulting remarks are 
 made, but the meeting goes on. The good old 
 Gospel is brought in story and song, and the 
 children are told a simple Bible story. 
 
 After the meetings gospel tracts, and testa- 
 ments, written in whatever language the persons 
 who receive them can read best, are given out 
 to those who ask for them. Personal work is 
 also done with as many as possible, and an in- 
 vitation extended to all to attend the gospel 
 meetings at the Mission. Children especially, 
 are urged to attend Sunday School, Bible and 
 sewing classes. Whenever this is possible, 
 names and addresses are taken, so that later on 
 we may visit them in their homes and have 
 personal talks with them about the salvation of 
 their soul.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 65 
 
 The aim of all our street work is to get in 
 contact with families in the district, especially 
 those who refuse to attend a religious meeting, 
 and above all to obey the behest of the Master: 
 "Go out in the highways and byways and constrain 
 them to come in, that my house may be full."
 
 66 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 TOO MUCH RELIGION 
 
 DOWN an old muddy alley, back of a row of 
 half tumbled down buildings, live a num- 
 ber of families who are poor and needy. A few 
 of these seem quite religious in their way. They 
 have a Bible in their home, a few religious pic- 
 tures can be seen on the wall, and added to 
 these the motto: "God bless our home," or 
 another of the same kind. 
 
 We stepped into the home of Mrs. K . for a 
 little chat about the things one needs to know 
 to live and die happily. "0 yes," said she, 
 "we are Christians. We believe in God. Of 
 course, we don't go to the Mission or the Church, 
 but we can be just as good a Christian as those 
 who go there. You know church takes a lot of 
 time and when a person works all week he is 
 glad when Sunday comes, so he can have a day 
 for himself. You know too much religion is not 
 
 good either." 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. C . are next. They live in a 
 two-room basement flat. When it rains the 
 water runs into the rooms and judging by the 
 looks of the floor one would say that this is 
 about the only time it ever gets wet! The fur-
 
 The Old Muddy Alley
 
 68 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 niture in this place is all home made, with the 
 exception of one bed and an old rusty cook 
 stove standing in the corner. The windows can 
 boast of no curtains. Their only adornment is 
 a newspaper tacked against the lower panes. 
 Their two children are very dirty and uncared 
 for in every way, the mother paying little or no 
 attention to them. She allows them to do and 
 run where they will. 
 
 We asked Mr. and Mrs. C . about getting 
 ready for eternity. Mrs. was the first to answer, 
 telling us that the sooner she got out of this 
 world the better. She said: "Life is not worth 
 living, especially with a bum of a man like I've 
 got! He only works half of the time and what 
 he earns he blows for booze and leaves me and 
 the kids starve. I do the best I can and live as 
 good as I can and I think if a person lives his 
 best, God will take him to Heaven." 
 
 "Heaven !" exclaimed Mr. C ., "a fat chance 
 you stand of getting there! My mother used to 
 tell me that a fellow has got to be mighty good 
 to get to that place, and you know right well 
 there is not any good in you. You holler around 
 here from morning till night, and you haven't 
 got any religion." 
 
 "I don't care for that stuff," answered Mrs. 
 C ., "I've seen so much of religion that I don't 
 want any of it."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 69 
 
 Mr. C . told us he had religion and always 
 did have some. "Of course, I am not like some 
 people. I say my little prayer every night. I 
 know I have one bad habit. I drink, but even 
 when I am drunk I say my prayer. Isn't that a 
 good thing to do?" 
 
 "Well, we said," "let us begin with what you 
 stated about your wife. You remember you told 
 her just a few minutes ago, that she did not have 
 anything good in her? That is what God says 
 about both of you, in fact, about all of us. We 
 all, like sheep, have gone astray, we have all 
 turned to our own way. We all come short of 
 the glory of God." 
 
 "How do you know that?" asked Mr. C . 
 
 We told him the Bible told us that, and the 
 Bible is God's Word. 
 
 "I never heard that before," he replied. 
 
 "Have you a Bible in your home?" 
 
 "No, we never had a Bible in our joint as 
 long as we were married." 
 
 We placed a Bible in the home and told 
 them there was no salvation outside of Christ, 
 and that the Bible told just how they could find 
 Christ as their Saviour. They promised to read 
 the Bible, although Mrs. C . said : "I will read 
 it just for fun."
 
 70 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 Now let us stop at the home of Mr. and Mrs. 
 T . Walking further down the alley, we 
 enter a dark hallway which leads to their living 
 room. As we near the door of their room, we 
 hear loud talking and not the best of language. 
 We walk in and soon find out what it was all 
 about. Their two children have been playing 
 out in the muddy alley and then came in and 
 walked on the bed; a few doves which were 
 kept in the living room with them had been 
 allowed to leave the cage, and to perch them- 
 selves on the head end of the bed; the dog had 
 gotten hold of a piece of meat he was not sup- 
 posed to have; and the cat had been up to a lot 
 of mischief. The room looked as if a wind 
 storm had gone through it. Really we could 
 not blame the mother for being angry, but the 
 language she used in scolding to her children 
 surely was not the kind that would help to im- 
 prove their morals. 
 
 After the mother had cooled down a bit we 
 had a talk with her about her soul's need. While 
 we were thus engaged her husband came home, 
 a very rough looking man. He sat down on the 
 bed to listen. "Well," said the mother, "I've had 
 too much religion, that is all what is the matter 
 with me; it was church, church, all the time. I 
 am sick of it." The husband then expressed his 
 opinion, saying that he never cared much for
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 71 
 
 church he did not trouble himself about re- 
 ligion he had all he could do to support his 
 family. 
 
 We pointed out to them the need of salva- 
 tion, and the awfulness of dying without Christ. 
 
 "I don't believe there is a hell. Why, I have 
 hell enough right here on earth." 
 
 Again we proved to them from God's Word 
 that they were wrong, and urged them strongly 
 to livte a better life. Our urgings, howeVer, 
 seemed to be without avail. Our friends were 
 confident they were right in their way of think- 
 ing and living. When, finally we quoted a text 
 from Isaiah 55, where God says : "My ways are 
 not your ways, and My thoughts are not your 
 thoughts," they gave no answer. We extended 
 to them an invitation to attend the meetings, to 
 which they replied: "O yes, we'll come some 
 day." 
 
 Dear readers, there are so many thousands 
 who are putting off salvation until a more con- 
 venient time ! Let us, unto whom God has given 
 the light, be up and doing. Let us do what we 
 can to spread the gospel story everywhere. 
 There is so much to do, and the workers are 
 so few.
 
 72 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 IN THE CLUTCHES OF SIN 
 
 JACKSON BOULEVARD is one of the main 
 thoroughfares over which the automobiles 
 run to the loop. Thousands upon thousands of 
 automobiles travel this road each day. On 
 either side of this road you find long rows of 
 buildings, and here and there old mansions 
 which still show that in by-gone years they were 
 homes of the rich. But today a great many of 
 these homes have been converted into rooming 
 houses for men, and light housekeeping-rooms 
 for families. The people living in these places 
 are of the poorer class, who are unable to fur- 
 nish a home for themselves, or are of the kind 
 which delight in moving from place to place, 
 believing it is cheaper to move than to pay 
 rent. In a district of this sort large sums of 
 money are lost by the landlords or landladies, 
 on account of their tenants skipping out at night, 
 leaving a rent bill behind, or on account of those 
 who are put upon the street, because they do 
 not have any money with which to pay their 
 rent. 
 
 We will now stop and inspect one of these 
 large, but old-fashioned flat buildings. Climb- 
 ing two flights of stairs, and walking to the rear
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 73 
 
 of the building, we come to a one-room flat. 
 Upon entering this room we first come in contact 
 with a clothes line strung from one end of the 
 room to the other, with different articles hang- 
 ing thereon to dry. The room is not very large, 
 eight by ten. Then the rosy colored walls and 
 the bright green ceiling, with patches of plaster 
 here and there, greet our eyes, and as we look 
 about, we see that there is barely room to turn 
 around. The furniture is not of the best. In the 
 center of the room stand a kitchen table, two 
 wobbly chairs and a rocker. In one corner 
 stands a large unpainted iron bed, with but few 
 covers, and scattered about the room are a 
 dresser, a cupboard for the dishes, a gas-plate, 
 and a sink. The room is so full that it would seem 
 hardly possible to live in such surroundings. 
 
 In this room lives a family of three, namely, 
 a father, a mother, and one daughter, who is 
 not yet able to walk. The husband, whose name 
 is Joe, is about thirty-three years old, but ap- 
 pears far older. That he has spent a number 
 of years in riotous living, can be read plainly 
 upon his flushed face, which originally would 
 have been attractive, had not the small, 
 piercing eyes given it a sinister appearance. He 
 is a bright sort of a fellow, enjoying the privil- 
 ege of a college education. He is able, and did 
 at different times, hold good positions, but he
 
 74 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 has a bad habit, which costs him a great deal of 
 trouble and money the habit of drink. It has 
 robbed him of all that he had. He told me bits 
 of his life's story. "When I was young," he 
 said, "I had the chance of my life. My dad gave 
 me a good education and if I only would have 
 minded my own business, I could be well off 
 today. I got married when I was twenty-one 
 years of age. A fine little girl I married! We 
 had six children together, but that old booze 
 has made a devil out of me. Why, I would 
 come home all piped up, pound the stuffings 
 out of my wife, push the children about, and 
 then leave. The poor girl, she is dead now, and 
 the children, God knows where they are; I 
 don't. For a time I roamed the country, not 
 caring where I went, spending every cent I made 
 for drink. When 1 worked I made good money, 
 yet I was always broke. Finally, I landed in 
 Boston. There I bumped up against a girl 
 named Mary. We got acquainted with each 
 other, soon married, and moved to Chicago, and 
 landed in this dump here. I tell you, it goes 
 against the grain, but I have no one to blame but 
 myself. I just can't leave the drink alone. I've 
 tried it again and again, but there is always 
 that craving for drink." 
 
 Joe's wife, Mary, is a hot-tempered woman, 
 as it did not take us long to discover while talk-
 
 rs 
 
 TJ 
 
 
 CO
 
 76 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 ing to her, and is uneducated. She keeps herself 
 at home, is a fairly good housekeeper, and is 
 above the average women in that neighborhood, 
 the majority of whom are generally running the 
 streets, leaving their homes dirty. Mary is very 
 witty, and talk? believe me, she can talk faster 
 than any politician or preacher I have ever 
 heard, but she is not very particular in the 
 choice of her words ! Their baby daughter is a 
 sweet, curly-haired blonde, the pride of their 
 life, and they love her above everything else. 
 
 It is the evening of a warm summer day. 
 Mary is sitting with her child in her arms on 
 the steps of the old, half tumbled down stairway 
 in the back of the house, waiting for Joe to come 
 home from work and bring her some much 
 needed' money. Patiently she waits. The sun 
 is sinking in the west, darkness is creeping 
 across the sky, and the stars are twinkling 
 above, but Joe has not come home yet. Mary is 
 nervous, and angry, too. Going into their one 
 room house, she lays her baby on the bed, and 
 then down the steps she runs, to the street, look- 
 ing this way and that way, but no Joe in sight! 
 She only sees the coming and going of the many 
 automobiles full of joyriders on this warm sum- 
 mer evening, and not one of them perhaps ever 
 stopping to think of the misery experienced be-
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 77 
 
 hind the red brick walls on either side of the 
 street. 
 
 Mary goes back upstairs to her room, now 
 filled with rage. "I'll knock his block off when 
 he does come home, the dirty old drunkard and 
 bum! If he thinks I am a fool I will show him 
 I am not!" The evening wears away into the 
 night. Mary can wait no longer, and at last 
 decides to lock the doors and go to bed. A 
 rather sleepless night she spends, not because 
 she is worried so much about Joe, but because 
 she is too angry to sleep. At five in the morn- 
 ing, being weary and worn with her night's 
 vigil, Mary got up out of bed, dressed, and 
 started down the steps once more in search for 
 Joe. As she reached the step, her eyes beheld 
 Joe lying at the bottom of the stairs, as drunk 
 as he could possibly be. He had spent the night 
 in the hall, not being physically able to climb 
 the steps. Suddenly Mary's voice is heard: 
 "Joe, you big bum, come up here." Joe does not 
 move. "Joe, you old drunk, get up here I tell 
 you !" Still Joe does not move. She goes to the 
 bottom of the stairs where Joe is lying, takes 
 him by the collar, pushes him about, shakes 
 him up good and proper, until at last he some- 
 what wakes up, and she drags him up the stairs, 
 the best she can, into their room, where she lets 
 him lie on the floor. Hastily she went through
 
 78 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 his pockets, in search for the much-needed 
 money. Her search, however, only netted her 
 seventy-six cents and two bottles of moonshine. 
 Seventy-six cents out of thirty-two dollars left! 
 
 Mary was angrier than ever now, for she 
 knew that it would mean no money to pay the 
 rent with, no money for food, and no milk for 
 the baby. She sat down in the old rocking 
 chair, and cried as if her heart would break. 
 She had reasons to cry. Poor girl, she needed 
 a bit of sympathy, but she got none from Joe. 
 Between her sobs she would say: "Joe, you 
 bum, you old drunk, I am going to leave you!" 
 After a few hours Joe finally woke up, looked 
 around, and then saw his wife sitting in the 
 chair. "Mary, Mary, how did I get here?" And 
 then the war began. It went from words to 
 blows. Mary ran from the house, down the 
 street, and came panting to the Mission, saying: 
 "Please, will you come and talk to my husband, 
 cool him down? I want to get mine and the 
 baby's clothes; I am going to leave him. I 
 won't live with that old bum any longer." 
 
 I advised Mary to return home, with the 
 promise that I would come over shortly. This 
 she did, and after an hour I went over. I 
 climbed the stairs, walked softly down the hall 
 that led to their room, and oh boy, what a noise 
 I did hear. Crack! Crack! Crack! Cups and
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 79 
 
 plates, forks and spoons, were being thrown 
 across the room at full speed. Opening the door, 
 I walked in. The floor was covered with the 
 broken dishes and forks and spoons were lying 
 everywhere. The father and mother were both 
 white with rage. The mother held her baby 
 clasped in her arms to protect it, and the father 
 was cursing and making all sorts of threats. I 
 stood there for a time listening, hardly knowing 
 what to say, and yet waiting for a chance to get 
 in a word. 
 
 Say, could that woman talk? She is the 
 swiftest talking-machine I ever heard. Finally 
 I managed to get in a word. "What's the trouble 
 here, Joe?" I asked. "Trouble," he said, "all 
 kinds of it, my clothes are ripped, the dishes 
 are busted, and before he could say another 
 word Mary cried out in a loud voice : "And you 
 are busted, you old bum, you spent your whole 
 pay for booze and I and the kid can starve." 
 Anew the battle began. Joe became so insanely 
 angry that he grabbed a milk bottle from the 
 sink, took his wife by the arms and cried out: 
 "I will kill you !" I then sprang between the two 
 of them and knocked the milk bottle out of Joe's 
 hand into the sink, breaking it into pieces. Mary 
 grabbed me by the arm, crying: "Save me, save 
 me," and ripped the sleeve out of my shirt, in
 
 80 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 trying to keep a safe distance between her and 
 Joe. 
 
 I succeeded in quieting them a little, and in 
 getting Joe to go out for a walk with me, to 
 talk the matter over. It was necessary to cool 
 him off before he would listen to reason, and for 
 a half hour or more we were out. We surely did 
 some walking, and then sat on the steps to- 
 gether. After some hard talking I finally got 
 Joe so far that he was willing to go into the 
 room and try to straighten out matters. Upon 
 entering the room we saw the landlady talking 
 to Mary, who was telling her to cut that stuff 
 out, or otherwise she had to get out, as she 
 couldn't stand for that kind of business. I told 
 the landlady that we had just come in to settle 
 this matter, and invited her to listen in. This 
 she did. Mary at first was unwilling to listen 
 to anything that sounded like a settlement, but 
 after a great deal of discussion they made up 
 together, promising one another to do all they 
 could to live happy. 
 
 Now that the storm had blown over, and the 
 sky seemed clear once more, it was the time to 
 talk to them about the Name that they had so 
 often heard in the Mission hall. Pointing out to 
 them that both had greatly sinned, and showing 
 them from the Bible that God must punish them 
 because of their sins, and that Christ Jesus
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 81 
 
 would fulfill their every need, that He is willing 
 to forgive our sins and to make us His children, 
 we finally got them upon their knees not by 
 force, but by showing them how wrong they 
 were. Mary, Joe, the landlady, and myself, all 
 got down on our knees and we earnestly prayed 
 God for them, asking Him to show them the 
 Saviour, and to save them. After prayer we 
 talked with them a little while longer, and then 
 left. 
 
 A few days after this incident, Joe stopped 
 in at the Mission to tell me how glad he was 
 that I had knocked the milk bottle out of his 
 hands. "I would surely have killed my wife, 
 and I was sore enough to kill you for butting in. 
 I am glad now you were there. You kept me 
 from committing a murder." This gave us 
 another opportunity to talk to him about salva- 
 tion, and I think he realized something of the 
 truth of the Word. 
 
 Things went along fine for a long time. It 
 looked as if all would be well. Joe came right 
 home from work every evening, and on pay-day 
 he brought his check home. All went fine, but 
 Joe was trying to do these things in his own 
 strength, instead of doing them as we urged him 
 to, in the strength of God. So it was impossible 
 for Joe to keep up his good behaviour. He soon 
 went on a drunk worse than ever before, and
 
 82 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 was gone for a few weeks. No one seemed to 
 know where he was, and nothing was heard 
 from him. 
 
 When Joe again came home and went to his 
 one room flat, he found the door open, but there 
 was no sign of life. Looking about he noticed 
 that all his wife's clothes were gone, and then 
 he realized that Mary had gone. She had left 
 him! Joe inquired among the neighbors as to 
 the whereabouts of his wife, but no one seemed 
 to know. The neighbors, however, told him of 
 the death of their baby daughter, who had died 
 during Joe's absence, and it was a great shock 
 to him. Sadly he came to the Mission, confess- 
 ing all, and we talked to him and prayed with 
 him, but he simply said: "It is no use, no use. 
 I am bound for hell." 
 
 So today Joe is roaming about, a slave to 
 booze or moonshine, without God or hope in the 
 world. They both know the way, but walk not 
 in it. How terrible it will be for a sinner to fall 
 into the hands of a living God! Poor man, poor 
 people, who cannot, or rather, will not, believe. 
 Should our prayers not be, "O God, have mercy 
 on their poor souls?"
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 83 
 
 PATTIE AND HIS WIFE 
 
 IN AN OLD tumbled down little joint on Madi- 
 son Street, lived Pattie and his wife. Pattie, 
 who was a man, of all trades, did not earn much 
 money; but his wife, a sweet and gentle woman, 
 worked hard to keep the house clean and tidy 
 as best she could for love makes even the 
 poorest place sunshiny and warm. 
 
 A dark shadow, darker than death, gathered 
 over the home, however. Pattie learned the 
 habit of taking strong drink and became a slave 
 to it. He began to spend a large part of his 
 money in the public houses, and his wife did not 
 have the comfort she should have had. What 
 a happy man Pattie was when he was filled with 
 moonshine! He was one of those fellows who 
 are not satisfied with a single drink or two. A 
 quart or more was Pattie's portion, and after 
 having spent all he had, bound for home, he 
 would go in zig-zag fashion, singing at the top 
 of his voice; and everybody in the neighborhood 
 knew that Pattie was coming home. 
 
 Upon reaching his house and stumbling up 
 the stairs, Pattie would flop down in a half- 
 wrecked arm chair, as was his custom, and drop 
 off to a deep slumber. As long as his wife said
 
 84 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 nothing, there was peace and all seemed to be 
 well, but as can be expected, Pattie's wife could 
 not always keep still, sweet and gentle though 
 she was. 
 
 One bright summer day, Pattie's wife sat by 
 the window waiting for him to come home. 
 Dinner was ready, and anxiously she watched 
 for him. Soon she heard his voice, and saw him 
 come swaying down the street. He was singing 
 at the top of his voice, in a gay and careless 
 fashion, as happy as could be. Pattie's wife was 
 not so happy. She was sick and tired of seeing 
 her husband in such a deplorable condition, so 
 she decided to tell him a thing or two. Pattie 
 was no sooner in the house and seated in his 
 arm-chair, when his wife began. What a tor- 
 rent of words flowed from her mouth! 
 "Enough!" cried Pattie, and jumping out of the 
 chair as best he could, he took hold of the first 
 thing in reach, which happened to be the table, 
 all set for dinner, when, crash! down went the 
 dishes, and the table upside down on top of 
 them. Pattie then pushed his wife into one 
 corner of the room. Once on the rampage he 
 could not be stopped, but commenced breaking 
 the already half-broken furniture into kindling 
 wood. 
 
 The neighbors could not help but hear the 
 racket, and a little girl who lived next door,
 
 a 
 0-
 
 86 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 came running to the Mission, crying: "Van, 
 hurry, come quick! Pattie is tearing down the 
 house." Quickly I ran with the little girl to Pat- 
 tie's house. The moment I stepped into the 
 house I was greeted with an awful curse, and 
 was offered the choice to either walk out, or be 
 put out. I, of course, refused to go, telling him 
 to sit down and behave himself. Instead of 
 doing as I told him to, he came at me full speed, 
 intending to knock me down. I again told him 
 to sit down, or I would knock him down, and 
 since he paid no attention to the request, I exe- 
 cuted my threat. This was a case where a bit 
 of "muscular Christianity" was needed. After 
 this he went to sleep, and slept practically all 
 afternoon. 
 
 About five o'clock of the same day, I again 
 went to see how things were getting along at 
 Pattie's house. All was peace. We chatted so- 
 ciably with each other for a while and before 
 leaving I invited Pattie and his wife to attend 
 the gospel-meeting that night. I hardly dared 
 believe they would come, but when it was about 
 time for the meeting to begin, there came Pattie 
 and his wife, arm in arm. Pattie was quite 
 sober and listened attentively to the sermon. 
 From that time on, they both attended the meet- 
 ings regularly, and Pattie tried harder than ever 
 to get away from drink, but all of poor Pattie's
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 87 
 
 resolutions and efforts were in vain. He wanted 
 to get right, but without God. 
 
 To all appearances, all our talking to Pattie 
 and his wife has been in vain. They have turned 
 a deaf ear to it all, but we have the assurance 
 that God's Word never returns void. Pattie and 
 his wife have moved, and we cannot find any 
 trace of them, but we trust that wherever Pattie 
 may be, he has learned that the path to heaven 
 is so narrow that you cannot carry a bottle of 
 moonshine on your hip and get by with it. Lots 
 of people get sore when their fellow-men try 
 to bluff them, but they are willing to be bluffed 
 by the devil.
 
 88 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 THE CAT AND BIRD WOMAN 
 
 IT WAS a dark, dreary, winter day. A cold 
 northwest wind was blowing a gale and the 
 thermometer registered eleven below zero. It 
 was the kind of weather which makes people 
 shiver, especially the poor, who usually are 
 scantily dressed and underfed, and of which 
 there are not a few in a large city like Chicago. 
 As we go into the homes of the poor on such 
 cold days, we find them all huddled up around 
 the stove, or in bed, trying to keep warm. 
 
 In this zero weather we called on a certain 
 woman living not far from the Mission, who is 
 known to some of the neighbors as the "cat and 
 dove woman." What a name for a woman to 
 go by, perhaps some of you exclaim, but allow 
 me to explain, and then you undoubtedly will 
 agree with the neighbors, that she was given a 
 suitable name. 
 
 This woman lives in an old fashioned house, 
 one that had been built by someone of means, 
 as everything in the home shows that it once 
 was the beautiful residence of a rich man; but 
 now it is uncared for and going to ruin. Still, 
 it is a place of shelter for poor families. In one 
 of the large rooms of this house lives this bird
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 89 
 
 woman, all alone. She makes her living by 
 doing odd jobs here and there, and this natur- 
 ally brings her into many parts of the city. As 
 she goes to and from her work, her eyes wander 
 up and down the street looking for stray cats, 
 and every one she sees, she picks up and carries 
 into her room. One can imagine what a collec- 
 tion she accumulates. 
 
 In talking to this woman, she told me she 
 had as many as twenty cats in her room at one 
 time. She added: "I love those cats and they 
 also keep me warm at night, as they all sleep in 
 bed with me. I just can't stand to see the poor 
 things suffer. It does not cost much to keep 
 them. I get ten or fifteen cents worth of neck 
 meat, from which I make soup, and then I, and 
 the cats, have all the soup we can eat. Then, 
 they catch the rats which are running about 
 the place. You know there are always a great 
 many rats playing around here." 
 
 Looking out of the windows I saw that the 
 window sills were filled with doves, or birds as 
 she called them. I asked her: "Are those your 
 doves?" She replied: "No, but they are always 
 here because I feed them. I love doves, too, and 
 those poor things must be taken care of." 
 
 "How do you manage to feed all those 
 doves?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "I get all kinds of food for
 
 90 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 them. I go down to the car-tracks where they 
 unload the corn and wheat, and I pick it up 
 and bring it home for them. Why, look here, 
 what a lot of food I have for my birds." 
 
 Upon seeing what she had, I was sure she 
 had ten times more food for the birds than she 
 had for herself. It was rather amusing to watch 
 her as she cared for these animals. She went 
 outside to feed the doves, cleaned the snow 
 away, and the moment she threw the food upon 
 the ground, there were at least fifty to seventy- 
 five doves, ready to eat. They were very tame, 
 and seemed to know her well. Some of them 
 even landed on her shoulders. 
 
 The cats were all fed in the house. About 
 seven old plates were spread around the floor, 
 and they looked as if they had never seen water, 
 but this the woman did not mind. 
 
 Upon asking her why she took such a liking 
 to cats and doves, her answer was: "Did not 
 God make them, and must we not take care of 
 them?" This gave us a fine opportunity to speak 
 to her of the love of God. "Oh," she said, "I 
 love God. I am a good woman. I never do 
 anything wrong. I don't steal, don't lie, and 
 never talk about anybody. I just tend to my 
 own business. Isn't that the right thing to do?" 
 We rejoined that all those things were good, 
 but that she needed something more than that,
 
 a 
 
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 E 
 
 h 
 
 id 
 a 
 
 v 
 
 Q 
 
 M 
 
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 92 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 and if she did not have more, she was not a 
 Christian. We put this question squarely to 
 her: "Is Jesus your Saviour?" 
 
 She hesitated somewhat before answering 
 this question, but finally answered: "I believe 
 in Jesus. I am not a heathen! I was baptized 
 in the Reformed Church in Germany. My 
 father and mother were good Christian people. 
 I always went to church until I came to America. 
 I know that I did not go to Church much while 
 I was here, but you know, sometimes there are 
 things that keep you from going to Church. I 
 married a man who turned out to be a drunkard. 
 He made m,e trouble galore, and I suffered 
 plenty while he was alive. He is dead now, and 
 I am all alone with my cats. I like to go to the 
 Mission. I enjoy the meetings and I know that 
 I am not what I should be, but I always figure 
 this way, God is love and He surely will bless 
 me for taking care of these poor cats and birds." 
 
 "However, Mrs. W .," I said, "What do you 
 really think then of all the preaching you hear 
 at the Mission?" 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Vande Water," she exclaimed, "I 
 must say that so long as I am in America I have 
 never heard the truth so straight as in your 
 Mission. Sometimes I think you are a little too 
 hard." 
 
 "We only bring you what the Bible tells us,
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 93 
 
 namely, that there is only one name given under 
 the heaven, whereby men may be saved. You 
 must know that we never make light of the 
 way of Salvation. God wants us to know and 
 believe that we are lost sinners by nature, and 
 by practice, and that unless we find forgiveness 
 of our sins in Jesus Christ, we are lost." 
 
 "What do you mean by lost?" 
 
 "I mean that if our sins are not forgiven, we 
 will go to hell." 
 
 "Do you really think that God will send us 
 to hell if we do the best we can?" she asked. 
 
 "The Bible tells us, Mrs. W ., that God is 
 a just God, and that He must punish sin. None 
 can enter heaven, unless they accept Jesus as 
 their Saviour. Remember it is not what man 
 thinks of God, but it is what God says, that is 
 the thing that goes." 
 
 "Do you think it is bad of me to take care of 
 these cats and birds?" 
 
 "No, that is good and kind of you, but it does 
 not save your soul. It does not make you a child 
 of God." 
 
 "Well, I never thought of it that way." 
 
 "That is undoubtedly true, Mrs. W ., but 
 you must see things very differently, otherwise 
 it will not be well with you." With this we 
 picked up the Bible which was rather dirty, and 
 asked her if she ever read it.
 
 94 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 "No," she said, "I cannot read very well. I 
 keep it for luck. I think everybody should have 
 a Bible in the house." 
 
 "Do you believe the Bible is God's Word?" 
 
 "I do; I was taught that when I was small, 
 and it never got out of me." 
 
 "Mrs. W .," I said, "I am sorry for you. 
 Please listen to me just a little more. I do want 
 to point you to Jesus. He loves you and wants 
 to see your soul saved. It is not a pleasure to 
 God that you should be lost. It is a pleasure to 
 Him to save you. This Bible is God's Word. In 
 it He tells us how we may be saved. God knows 
 that you and I cannot save ourselves. We are 
 lost in sin. We are under the penalty of death, 
 because of sin, but God has sent His only begot- 
 ten Son into the world, that those that believe 
 on Him may have everlasting life. Shall we 
 ask God to show you and work in your heart, 
 that you may be saved?" 
 
 We knelt in prayer and pleaded with God 
 for the salvation of that dear soul, and we have 
 reasons to believe that there is a working there, 
 not of man, but of God. 
 
 Dear reader, pray that souls who have sunk 
 deep down in sin, may be brought to the glori- 
 ous light of salvation. Give God all the honor 
 and glory, and may you and I be faithful in 
 spreading the glad tidings of love.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 95 
 
 WHY I AM WHAT I AM 
 
 THE somberness of a rainy morning still en- 
 veloped the poor slum district of the City of 
 Chicago, and while we were walking along the 
 street, a door of one of the many tenement 
 buildings opened and a woman appeared in the 
 doorway. She was one of the women of our 
 Mission. We called out a cheery good morning, 
 and we were cordially invited to come in. We 
 did not need a second invitation and walked up 
 the stairway, into the house, finding the whole 
 family at home, father, mother, and five chil- 
 dren. 
 
 This family occupies three small rooms of 
 a very old tenement house. Their home, as it is 
 called, is furnished with a great deal of half- 
 wrecked furniture, the biggest items being two 
 old iron beds and a baby-buggy. In one of the 
 beds four children must sleep, and the baby-cab 
 is for the eight-months-old child. At a glance 
 we could see that the beds were very dirty and 
 seldom made. It looked as if no washing was 
 ever done at all. To heat the place, there stood 
 in a corner of the room, an old cook stove with- 
 out any door in it. The odor in this home was 
 something terrible.
 
 96 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 We sat down and began a very earnest talk 
 with father and mother. Three of their children 
 attend the Helping Hand Mission Sunday School. 
 The other two are too small to attend. The 
 mother attends the meetings quite regularly, but 
 the father does not care for religion, having too 
 much fault to find with the Bible to "take much 
 stock in it." 
 
 In talking with them we entered into a very 
 lively discussion about the salvation of their 
 souls, and prayerfully showed them the great 
 need of Christ. We pointed out to them from 
 the Bible that without Christ there is no hope 
 for them, and that if they die in their sins, the 
 only future for them is destruction. 
 
 "Oh," said the father, "I don't believe in hell. 
 I have read so many books that tell me there is 
 no hell, that I came to the conclusion that the 
 Bible is off in that. I tell you, Van, if you knew 
 my life and the teachings I have had, then you 
 would understand why I am what I am." 
 
 "Tell me some of it, F .," I said, "then I will 
 know better how to talk to you." 
 
 "Oh, I don't mind telling you some things. 
 My dad and mother never went to any Church 
 that I know of, and us kids could do about what 
 we pleased. I never knew anything about Sun- 
 day School or Church and hung around from 
 one place to another, getting into all kinds of
 
 "Les Miserable*"
 
 98 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 things, and knocking around with anybody and 
 everybody, which has made me what I am." 
 
 "That does not excuse you, F .; you are re- 
 sponsible to God for the way you live, and for 
 the way you bring up those children. You will 
 have to answer for it some day. However, there 
 is hope for you, but not in yourself. The only 
 way you can get what you need is through faith 
 in Christ. As to your opinion, that there is no 
 hell, this does not change God's Word a bit. 
 Furthermore, I will show you from the Bible 
 that all that stuff you have been reading has 
 done you a lot of harm and is bound to bring 
 you to a Christless grave." We showed him from 
 the Bible and from concrete examples, that God 
 is right, and that he was wrong, and finally got 
 him to promise to read the Bible. 
 
 His wife soon joined in our conversation, by 
 telling me that her greatest sin was swearing. 
 "But," she said, "you can't blame me, Van, my 
 father was a very wicked man, he had a lot of 
 things to think about. We were a family of 
 eleven, and dad had both his legs cut off when 
 I was only two years old. Day in and day out, 
 all he could do was sit by the window, and read 
 and smoke his pipe. He would not read the 
 Bible on a bet, but we always had one in the 
 house, and Dad used it to punish us with when 
 we did not do what he told us. The first thing
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 99 
 
 he would throw at us was the Bible. Many a 
 time he hit me with it, and then he would curse 
 so, I never heard anything like it! Of course, 
 we children soon got so that we could swear, for 
 I did not know the wrong of it then. Now I do 
 know it is wrong, but I just can't help it. You 
 know I've got a hot temper, and when I get sore 
 the first thing I think of is to swear. Do you 
 wonder that I am what I am?" 
 
 We at once handed her a small card upon 
 which was printed the following : 
 
 "For the Lord will not hold him guiltless that 
 taketh His name in vain." 
 
 WHEN YOU SWEAR 
 It may hurt others 
 It does you no good 
 It reflects discredit upon your training 
 It is a Sin against God. 
 
 This card she earnestly read; then she said: 
 "that is true, but my training was far from what 
 it should have been." 
 
 "That does not excuse you, Mrs. F ., re- 
 member you are personally responsible to God 
 for your life, and if you do not get right with 
 God, you will be lost. If you will take your 
 troubles and your sins to God, He has promised 
 to right your wrongs. God is able and willing 
 to forgive you, and when He comes into your
 
 100 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 heart and life, you won't swear, but you will 
 praise Him." 
 
 In this connection we also pointed out to her 
 that her children could hardly help but learn 
 to swear. "They don't need to learn it any 
 more," was her response, "they can swear to 
 beat the band. I have whipped them for it, but 
 it does not seem to help any." 
 
 "How* do you expect them not to swear if 
 you teach them, by the way you live and talk 
 to them? Don't you see that you are to blame 
 for it? If you ask God to help you not to swear, 
 and if you set a good example for your children, 
 by the help of God you will be able to break 
 them of this terrible sin." 
 
 She promised to do this, and we are hoping 
 and praying that God, through His Spirit, will 
 work in their hearts so that father, mother, and 
 children may be saved to the glory of God. 
 
 One of the important lessons we may learn 
 from this incident, is the folly of relying for our 
 future welfare on our opinions about religion. 
 How can these have any value, when God only 
 can reveal to us the unseen world? How many 
 people lost their soul because they substitute 
 human opinion for the Word of God !
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 101 
 
 WHAT I WAS AND WHAT I AM NOW 
 BY THE GRACE OF GOD 
 
 HARRY, who is short of stature and sallow 
 complexioned, was born on June 3, 1874. 
 He conies from a large family, having nine 
 brothers and one sister. His mother was a good 
 Christian woman, and a member of the M. E. 
 Church. His father was not a Christian, but 
 a good moral man, caring for his wife and chil- 
 dren as a good father. 
 
 When Harry was six years old, his mother 
 died, leaving the father to take care of the chil- 
 dren as best he could. With mother gone, and 
 his father a worldly man, everything in the 
 home went along in more or less of a slip-shod 
 manner, as can well be expected. Father tried 
 to do his best for his children, but Harry, at the 
 age of fifteen, ran the streets quite freely, night 
 and day, and as a result, he finally left home 
 altogether, to make his own way through the 
 world. 
 
 Harry set out to look for work, and finally 
 succeeded in getting a job on the Wabash rail- 
 road, making pretty fair money, but never hav- 
 ing any very long in his pockets. He spent most 
 all of his money for booze and also had a habit
 
 102 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 of giving money to anyone who would ask for 
 it. This, and the booze, kept him broke. 
 
 Harry told me that since he was a boy, his 
 "fingers were too long." He was always taking 
 things that did not belong to him, and when 
 only twelve years old he said that he got quite 
 a bit of money picking pockets. "I had to have 
 money," he said, "and Dad would not give me 
 any, so I stole it out of other people's pockets. 
 I never got caught at it, so that encouraged me 
 to continue the game, as it was an easy way to 
 get money, and I became quite an expert at 
 pickpocketing." Some time after my mother's 
 death I learned that she had left quite a large 
 amount of money to us children. My share 
 amounted to Five Thousand Five Hundred Dol- 
 lars, and as soon as I possibly could, I made it 
 my business to get this money. Once I had this 
 money in my possession, I went on a long drunk. 
 I don't think I was perfectly sober for a whole 
 year, and when I finally did wake up to myself, 
 I discovered that the entire sum of what was 
 left to me, was gone. I had spent it all for 
 booze !" 
 
 "In the year 1896 I got married. I continued 
 to drink, and many a time I came home 
 drunk, in an ugly mood, making it my business 
 almost to pound the stuffings out of my wife. I 
 also would break up the furniture and smash
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 103 
 
 the window panes. My life and home was a 
 hell. I continued living that way for quite a 
 while. A few years afterwards my wife died. 
 
 After my wife's death, I remained single for 
 several years and drank more than ever, trying 
 to forget my wife through drink, knowing full 
 well that I had not treated her right. A few 
 years later I met my second wife, whose hus- 
 band had died, and after a short acquaintance 
 we were married and moved to Chicago. We 
 lived in Chicago for a short time and then moved 
 to Indianapolis, Indiana. While in Indiana I 
 became interested in religion, at least I thought 
 I did, and after some urging I joined the Third 
 Christian Church. My church-life did not mean 
 a thing. After a time religion seemed foolish 
 to me and every time I went to Church I could 
 think of nothing but that the preacher was a 
 crook." 
 
 "Some months later, wife, baby and myself 
 left the town and moved back to Chicago, where 
 I got a job as a brakeman for the Illinois Central 
 Railroad. I was a cracker-jack at swinging the 
 lanterns and could swing it best when drunk. 
 Time and again I came home drunk, and when 
 I would enter the house, wife and baby would 
 get out of my way, because it meant that there 
 was going to be a fight. My little girl was so
 
 104 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 afraid of me that she did not dare to come near 
 me." 
 
 "However, bad as I was, off and on we would 
 go to a mission-meeting, not because I cared 
 to hear the Word, but just to pass away some 
 time. One night I stumbled into the Helping 
 Hand Gospel Mission on old Madison Street. 
 After the meeting they asked for my name and 
 address, and visited us time and again. I used 
 to make you think that I was a pretty good sort 
 of a fellow, and came to the Mission because I 
 liked to hear you talk, but I did not believe a 
 word you said. I thought it was all bunk." 
 
 "Why, the moment I would get out of the 
 Gospel Hall I would curse and swear at you, 
 and lie ! I have told you more lies than any ten 
 men ever did. I did everything I possibly could 
 to harm you, and still you kept after me. I had 
 times when I came to the meeting that you 
 would hit me with your words, harder than any 
 man could hit with a sledge-hammer, but I was 
 bullheaded and would not give in. It was when 
 you got me interested in your Bible class, that 
 I began to realize that there might really be 
 something in religion after all, and the more I 
 attended, the more I realized that I was a great 
 sinner; but I usually got rid of that thought by 
 having a few drinks. However, it came on me so 
 strongly, that drink would not take the thought
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 105 
 
 from me any more, so that after four years of 
 work on the part of God through Miss Plum and 
 Van, and after the worst night I ever spent in 
 my life, on December 25, 1925, at four o'clock in 
 the morning, I was saved by the grace of God in 
 my own home." 
 
 "I realize now what it meant when Van so 
 often said that a man must become a lost sinner 
 before God in order to be saved. I was the 
 worst man that ever lived, unworthy of the least 
 of God's blessings, but when I got down on my 
 knees before God and pleaded for salvation, the 
 Lord saved me. And what a load I did get rid 
 of ! How different I felt ! How I longed for the 
 time to come that I could tell them at the Mis- 
 sion what God had done for me !" 
 
 "As for booze, the desire is all gone. God 
 took it away. How anxious I was to get back 
 to the factory where I am now working, to tell 
 the boys I was saved, and that there is a chance 
 for them to get what I got !" 
 
 "Salvation surely is a wonderful thing. Why, 
 when I went to work the Monday after Christ- 
 mas, the superintendent came to me and said: 
 'Harry, what happened to you? You look as 
 happy as a lark.' I remarked, 'I am happy, 
 never was so happy as I am now, because I am 
 converted. I gave my heart to God.' The super- 
 intendent said nothing and walked away, but
 
 106 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 after a time he came back again, with the ques- 
 tion: 'Harry, tell me all about it.' I did tell 
 him all I could, but the only answer he gave, 
 was : 'I don't know what to make of you !' " 
 
 "The week went by quickly. The meeting 
 at the Mission on Thursday night I enjoyed im- 
 mensely. Saturday came, which always was 
 the day when I got drunk as soon as I got my 
 money, but this time it was all different. At 
 10: 30 in the morning the superintendent came 
 to tell me that we all had to work on Sunday. 
 I said to him: 'Not me!' The superintendent 
 replied: 'Those are my orders from the man- 
 ager. If you don't want to work you better go 
 and see him.' I went in to see the manager, and 
 told him I could not work on Sunday. 'Why 
 not?' was the question. I answered: 'I am a 
 Christian and God does not want me to work 
 on Sunday. We are all duty bound to remem- 
 ber the Sabbath day and to keep it holy'." 
 
 "The manager knew me, not as a Christian, 
 but as a wicked man, and when I said that to 
 him he looked up in surprise, and said : 'When 
 did you get that into your head?' 'Christmas 
 morning I was saved,' I said. The manager gave 
 another look and said: 'All right, Harry, you 
 don't have to work Sunday.' I went back to 
 my bench, thanking God for giving me courage 
 to stand up for Him."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 107 
 
 "The hours slipped by. About twelve o'clock 
 the paymaster came through, handing me my 
 check. Holding the check in my hand, I offered 
 a silent prayer, saying: 'O God, take me right 
 home with this check.' God did. My wife was 
 so surprised to see me home so soon, and sober 
 at that, that she hardly knew what to make of 
 it. She is not yet saved, but I am praying God 
 to save her. In her surprise at seeing me home 
 so soon she said: 'How did it happen you came 
 home sober?' I told her that the Lord took me 
 home." 
 
 "My home used to be a hell, but it is a real 
 home now, and it will be still better when Rose, 
 my wife, gets saved. She is a good woman, but 
 she doesn't know Jesus." 
 
 "That .Saturday afternoon I spent doing a 
 little shopping, getting things for Sunday. I 
 never thought of a thing like that before. We 
 stayed at home in the evening, and I went to 
 bed sober, and spent my whole Sunday in the 
 Mission. When Monday morning came I felt in 
 fine shape for work, which had not happened for 
 a long time. The boys at the shop do not know 
 what to make of me, but I told them : 'You get 
 what I got, and then you know what God can 
 make out of you." 
 
 "I was talking to a few of the boys about 
 God and salvation the other day when one of the
 
 108 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 fellows made a little fun of me, by saying: 
 'Harry, I suppose if God told you to go through 
 that brick wall, you would try to do it.' I ans- 
 wered : 'I would not try, I would do it.' " 
 
 In talking with Harry's wife some time ago, 
 I asked her: 'Is there any difference in your 
 home since Harry is converted?' 
 
 "Difference?" she said, "this is not the same 
 place any more. That man gets home at night 
 and stays home. He spends nearly all his time 
 reading the Bible and preaching to me. He is 
 teaching Edna, (their little girl) the Lord's 
 prayer. He makes her pray every night before 
 she goes to bed." 
 
 I told her that that was fine, that we were 
 glad to hear it, also telling her that if she would 
 accept Christ, the home would be still happier. 
 "Oh," she said, "I can't; there are so many things 
 that I don't get !" For a long time we conversed 
 on these things, but still she does not realize 
 the great need of Christ. Nevertheless her in- 
 terest in the gospel-meetings is encouraging. 
 She also enjoys the Bible class and is not afraid 
 to ask questions about the lesson. I believe that 
 the conversion of her husband makes an im- 
 pression upon her for good. We sincerely hope 
 and pray that she, too, will soon be brought to 
 the true light of salvation.
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 109 
 
 SHE BURNED THE BIBLE WITH A CURSE 
 
 IT WAS a beautiful spring day in the early 
 part of May, in the year 1919. The sun was 
 shining in all its splendor and glory. Birds 
 could be heard singing everywhere, being 
 perched in the trees upon which the leaves were 
 just beginning to bud. Surely a more beautiful 
 day one could not wish for, a day full of the 
 glory of God in nature. 
 
 Upon this beautiful morning Miss Nellie 
 Ter Borg and I started out to visit a number of 
 families living in the vicinity of the Mission. 
 We left the Mission full of hope and courage, 
 talking as we walked, of the great wonders of 
 nature, and how clearly God reveals Himself 
 in the visible world. 
 
 At length we came to an alley, and as some 
 of the people we had in mind to visit, lived there, 
 we decided to walk down the alley to save time. 
 
 As can well be imagined, it was not a pleas- 
 ant walk, the place being littered with all sorts 
 of rubbish, tin cans, ashes, paper, potato-peel- 
 ings, spoiled food and leavings of all kinds. 
 Dogs, cats and rats were running about and 
 feasting upon whatever they could find. Chil- 
 dren could also be seen here and there, playing
 
 110 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 among the rubbish, now and then putting in 
 their mouth a piece of bread, or a bone found 
 there. 
 
 We were watching a little dog which was feast- 
 ing on a piece of bread found in the rubbish 
 heap, but it did not remain in his possession 
 very long, as he was robbed of it by a small 
 boy, who grabbed it from his mouth and put it 
 into his own. 
 
 As we went on, we saw a little girl stirring up 
 the contents of a garbage can. As she stirred, 
 she found a piece of meat. She picked up a 
 piece of paper, cleaned the meat with it, which 
 she then ate. Such sights to behold, and what 
 odors to inhale! These experiences by no means 
 made the alley trip a pleasant one. 
 
 We finally came to the home of Mr. and Mrs. 
 D . The first floor was a horse-barn, and a 
 very dirty place at that. We climbed the rickety 
 stairs to the second floor, knocked, and walked 
 in. Mrs. D . was very busy scolding, and in 
 doing so, she did not use the very best of lan- 
 guage. Her husband had come home drunk, 
 hence the reason for her tirade. 
 
 We stood at the door for a time, watching 
 both husband and wife, and finally we were of- 
 fered a chair. At least they were supposed to 
 be chairs. I was offered a soap box with a board 
 nailed to one side, answering the purpose of a
 
 112 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 back. "And," Mrs. D . said, : "Miss, you take 
 this rocker." The object she pointed to had 
 been a rocking chair once upon a time. The 
 rockers were gone, two plaster-laths had been 
 substituted, one of the arms was broken off and 
 the back was wrecked. Miss Ter Borg sat down. 
 
 We talked with these people for some time. 
 That is, we talked with Mrs. D ., as it was im- 
 possible to talk with her husband, who was as 
 intoxicated as possible, and we had all we could 
 do to keep him quiet while Miss Ter Borg talked 
 to the Mrs. We spent about thirty minutes 
 there, pointing her to the Christ. We also gave 
 her a tract and a testament, and then said good- 
 bye. 
 
 We were glad to leave that place, which they 
 called their home, not because we could not 
 talk to them about the Bible, but because of the 
 odor prevailing there. A horse-barn below, and 
 their home far from clean, made things rather 
 unbearable. .Still, it was our duty to go to these 
 people, who also have a soul, created for eter- 
 nity. God's orders to His Church are : "Go into 
 the highways and byways and bring them in, 
 that my house may be full." 
 
 Thus on and on we went, continuing our 
 trip down the alley to another home. This time 
 our visit was to a mother with four children, 
 living in a single room in the rear of an old,
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 113 
 
 half-wrecked building. The first floor was used 
 as a butcher-shop, which looked quite respect- 
 able. The small yard behind was fenced in with 
 a high board-fence. This yard was filled with 
 barrels, boxes and other leavings from the 
 butcher shop. All this, together with the odor 
 from the dirty alley, created an awful smell. 
 
 We were barely able to squeeze our way 
 through the small alley-gate, we kicked aside a 
 few boxes and cans, and started to climb the 
 outside stairs which led to the home of the 
 people we wished to visit. We had to go up the 
 stairs one at a time, for it looked as if it were 
 ready to fall down. We knocked on the door, 
 which was opened at once with a stern com- 
 mand in a harsh tone of voice: "Come on in 
 and sit down." We had talked to this mother 
 once or twice before, but never had visited her 
 in her home, and that, of course, made it easy 
 for us to get in. 
 
 The mother was busy washing, and I am sure 
 that if good housewives would have had the op- 
 portunity of watching the process of this wash- 
 ing, they would have plenty to say. We very 
 soon acquainted Mrs. E . with the reason for 
 our visit. We told her the aim of our work, and 
 how she needed it for herself and children, and 
 husband. 
 
 "Say, I haven't got any husband. The old
 
 114 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 man is dead. I'm glad of it. He wasn't any 
 good anyway," was her response. 
 
 We did not go into the case of her husband, 
 but continued to show her the need of Christ 
 for her own heart, showing her how necessary 
 it was to send her children to Sunday School 
 and Bible Class. She listened to all this without 
 a word of comment, but when we were through 
 talking to her she asked a few questions about 
 the Sunday .School, and the time it was held. 
 She also asked for some clothing for her chil- 
 dren, which we, of course, are always glad to 
 give to any needy. 
 
 After this conversation, acting according to 
 our custom, we handed her, before leaving, a 
 tract and a testament. She took them with the 
 question: "What is this?" We told her the 
 one was a tract, and if she would read it she 
 would get a lot of good out of it. We also 
 said: "That little book is a Bible. Not the 
 whole Bible, but the New Testament." 
 
 "A Bible!" she fairly yelled it out. "I hate 
 that thing, I don't want it in my house. I've 
 got trouble enough without fooling around with 
 that book. I used to believe that stuff when I 
 was a kid, but as I grew up, I saw so many things 
 that set me against the Bible, I don't want it." 
 
 We tried to calm her and tell her the Bible 
 was God's Word, and that only the Bible tells
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 115 
 
 us of a truly happy life, which we may have if 
 we believe on Jesus, and that if she would take 
 all her trouble to Him, He would take it away. 
 We tried our best to show her that Jesus is able 
 to save unto the uttermost those that come unto 
 God by Him, but nothing seemed to help. She 
 would not have the Bible. 
 
 We expected her to hand the Bible back to 
 us, but instead of that, she pulled the wash 
 boiler off the stove and with a curse threw the 
 Bible into the fire. 
 
 We stood dumbfounded for a few moments, 
 not knowing what to say, but a passage of 
 Scripture came to our mind, which we gave to 
 her, namely : "Every knee shall bend and every 
 tongue shall finally confess that the Lord is 
 God." With a prayer in our hearts of, "O God, 
 have mercy on her poor soul," we left her. We 
 could not help but pray for her, for we realized 
 what a strong grip Satan had upon her, and 
 for her poor children growing up under the care 
 of such an ungodly mother. 
 
 My dear reader, should not our hearts burn 
 with passion for never-dying souls? On every 
 hand men and women are dying without Christ, 
 and without hope for eternity ! 
 
 Is it nothing to you?
 
 116 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 HAVE NO TIME!" 
 
 THE day was dark and gloomy, with the rain 
 coming down in torrents every now and 
 then. Weather of this kind is unpleasant, but 
 especially so in the slum district, where there 
 is already so much to make life dreary and 
 dismal. 
 
 On days, as above mentioned, we usually 
 find people at home. This gives us a fine op- 
 portunity to visit those who cannot be found at 
 home in nice weather and their number is not 
 small ! 
 
 Dear readers, I want you to go with me in 
 your imagination to make a visit to some of 
 these homes. Be sure to take umbrella and rub- 
 bers with you; you may need them, both in and 
 outdoors. Some of the places we may visit are 
 by no means waterproof. Sometimes water 
 from the sky, and occasionally, water from the 
 street, makes these rooms look like a flooded 
 basement. 
 
 Let us walk down Halstead to Harrison 
 Street, an Italian district. Here we are ! A few 
 of these children attend our Sunday School, so 
 we will call on their parents, and perhaps we 
 can get them to attend the meetings. We must
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 117 
 
 climb four flights of these stairs, so be careful 
 and watch your step. Just follow me, feeling 
 your way up. We will meet a variety of odors, 
 but don't let that bother you too much. 
 
 Finally we are on the fourth floor. We knock 
 on the door. When the people inside are ready 
 they will admit us. The mother opens the door. 
 She is a very stout woman, wearing a dress 
 which is shining from dirt. 
 
 "Mrs., we are from the Sunday School your 
 children attend." 
 
 "Come in, come." 
 
 The mother takes the lead, and through the 
 kitchen we go. What a mess there ! It looks as 
 if the dishes have never been washed. The floor 
 is so dirty you must be careful not to slip and 
 fall. Everything is topsy-turvy. We are led 
 through the bedroom, which looks more like a 
 storehouse than a place to sleep. We now come 
 to what they call their parlor, in which is a lot of 
 cheap, over-stuffed furniture. The walls are cov- 
 ered with all sorts of pictures clipped from the 
 Sunday papers. 
 
 We are asked to sit down and visit for a 
 while. We tell Mrs. we are glad her children 
 attend the Sunday School and would like very 
 much to have her attend the Gospel meetings. 
 
 "HaVe no time to come to the meetings. 
 I've got to stay home. That old man of mine
 
 118 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 wants me to go out, but I know why! The mo- 
 ment I go out he brings in a bunch of bums and 
 they sit here and drink and fight, and then leave 
 the dirt for me to clean up. Last night he came 
 home drunk and I gave him a good beating. 
 Sometimes I get so tired of living that I just 
 feel like ending it all." 
 
 Then she broke down and cried. We talked 
 to her for a while about God's wonderful offer 
 of salvation, explaining to her how she could 
 get the joy of salvation into her heart. How she 
 listened to the Word! She had never heard 
 anything like it and a Bible? why, she hardly 
 knew what we meant when we mentioned it. 
 All the poor soul had was a badly torn prayer 
 book. We asked her where she got it. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "I was born and raised a 
 Catholic, but I never go to church." 
 
 We felt very sorry for her, realizing some- 
 thing of her miserable condition. We then of- 
 fered a prayer, and when we had finished, she 
 said: "How funny you pray! I never heard 
 anybody pray like that. You pray just as if you 
 are talking to some one." 
 
 "Surely, we are talking to God. He wants us 
 to bring all our needs and cares to Him, for He 
 says that He is able and willing to help us." 
 
 "I don't understand your way of praying at 
 all. I'll show you how I was taught to pray."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 119 
 
 She arose and went to an old dresser, opened 
 the top drawer, rummaged around in a lot of 
 things she had there, and at last drew out two 
 strings of Catholic prayer-beads; then as fast 
 as she could talk she rattled off a number of 
 short prayers in the Italian language. When she 
 finished she said: "I don't hardly know them 
 prayers any more. It's so long ago that I said 
 them. That is the way they told me to pray. 
 I learned it in a school in the Old Country." 
 
 We asked her if she knew what those prayers 
 meant. 
 
 "No, they never told me that, they just said: 
 "Pray these prayers." 
 
 Poor, ignorant souls! Should we not do all 
 we can to acquaint them with the gospel of 
 
 salvation? 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Now let us go a few blocks further west on 
 Harrison Street. Here we see a number of red 
 brick houses. They look good on the outside, 
 but you just wait until you enter one of them. 
 Yonder in that last one, on the second floor, 
 lives a man who comes to the meetings off and 
 on, not because he is interested in the Gospel, 
 but because he "gets lonesome for music." He 
 is a tailor by trade, using the rear half of his 
 home for a shop. 
 
 We ring the bell and Mr. N . comes to the
 
 120 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 door, thinking perhaps it is a customer. When 
 he sees us, he exclaims: O, is it you? Well, 
 come in." 
 
 Now watch where you go! You must step 
 over these gates in the doorway. We are led 
 into the tailor shop, and ordered to sit down. I 
 suppose you wonder why those gates are in the 
 doorway. This man keeps quite a few dogs 
 and birds, to make a little extra money. 
 
 "How many dogs have you got, Mr. N . ?" 
 
 "O, only fourteen." 
 
 "How many birds?" 
 
 "Only twenty. I'm going to sell the birds. 
 They are too dirty." 
 
 It surely was dirty! Dogs were running 
 through the rooms, and birds were flying 
 around, while a couple of cats were fast asleep 
 on the bed. 
 
 "Mr. N ., we have not seen you at the meet- 
 ing for some time." 
 
 "I've been sick, and I don't care much for the 
 meeting, except the singing. You always preach 
 about people being all wrong and God being 
 all right, and that we must believe on Jesus to 
 be saved. I do the best I can. I am kind and 
 honest. I will take a chance with that." 
 
 "Mr. N ., please listen to us. First we must 
 tell you that you are all wrong, and we will 
 prove it to you from the Bible."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 121 
 
 We opened our Bible and read to him a fit- 
 ting passage, showing him that his whole con- 
 ception of himself, of God, and of Christ was 
 wrong. We talked with him for a long while, 
 but did not seem to make any headway. We 
 left his home with the prayer in our heart : "O 
 God, call him to a halt, and bless Thy Word to 
 his soul." 
 
 You say, perhaps, "My, but that is discour- 
 aging work!" Yes, in many cases it is, but we 
 have a great consolation. Our Lord Jesus said : 
 "Go, for I am with you until the end of the 
 world." 
 
 We have time to make one more call over on 
 Boston avenue. It is not a very respectable 
 street, nor very safe, since many of the folks 
 living there are thieves and drunkards. Let's 
 go down this alley. Don't mind the rats, cats, 
 and dogs. What's that? Oh, that's a boy stir- 
 ring up the contents of a garbage can. He wants 
 something to eat. 
 
 We now come to a house which is a one- 
 room affair, with one small window. We knock 
 and walk in, having been there often before. 
 The old lady is in bed. 
 
 "Good-day, Mrs., how are you?" 
 
 "Pretty fair, I'm so glad you came. Will you
 
 122 
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 read for me? This time I want you to read 
 to me about Jesus. I love Him so!" 
 
 This poor old lady was blind and she just 
 longed for one of us to come to read to her 
 and pray with her. Her room was dark and 
 shabby, but, glory to God, in her heart there 
 was the light of salvation. She is gone now. 
 Gone to her heavenly home, to be with Him, 
 whom she learned to love so dearly. 
 * * * * 
 
 Dear readers, there is so much to do ! There 
 are so many thousands about us who are not 
 yet saved! Are we doing all we can to bring 
 them the gospel? 
 
 "Go ye and tell," is the Word of the Master, 
 Servants of Jesus, O hear and obey. 
 Reap for His glory in fields that are nearest, 
 Look all abroad for the harvest is white. 
 O'er the wide earth are the sheaves to be garnered, 
 Hasten, reaper, fast cometh the night!
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 123 
 
 "DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT THAT STUFF!" 
 
 I HAD just finished explaining to the students 
 of our Mission Training School, some of the 
 reason people give for not becoming Christians. 
 I was hurrying back to the Mission hall to open 
 our Tuesday evening gospel meeting, when I 
 was stopped by a man and woman who reg- 
 ularly attend the meetings. 
 
 "We have something to ask you. Will you 
 please go with us to a man in the next block? 
 He is very sick and is not expected to live. He 
 never goes to church, and does not care about 
 the Bible. Will you go with us and talk to him 
 and pray for him?" 
 
 I said, "Surely, as soon as I start off this 
 meeting I will go with you." 
 
 Within twenty minutes we were on our way. 
 We soon reached the place, which our inform- 
 ants said was his home. We climbed a long, 
 dark stairway, went down a long hall and finally 
 reached a door which was opened by the wife 
 of the sick man. The first look at her gave us 
 a picture of misery. We found our way into 
 the sick-room. I said to myself: "and they call 
 this a home !" It looked more like a store-house. 
 Boxes and trunks and lumber were piled up
 
 124 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 around the place. Over in one corner stood a 
 bed upon which the sick man was lying. They 
 called him Jack. We talked a few moments 
 about his sickness, inquired what he was doing 
 for it, who the doctor was, and then we asked 
 him, "Do you ever pray, Jack?" He looked up 
 at me and said, "No, what do I want to pray 
 for?" We told him that Christ is the great 
 Physician, that He invites us to come to Him 
 with all our sins and ailments, and that He is 
 able and willing to take care of us. "Oh," he 
 said, "don't talk to me about that stuff; that's 
 all bunk. People talk about hell and heaven; 
 I don't believe it, and if there is such a place as 
 heaven, I stand just as good a chance as you 
 do of getting there." 
 
 We explained that the Bible is God's Word 
 and that heaven and earth shall pass away, but 
 God's Word shall stand. At this point the wife 
 took part in the conversation. She said: "Jack, 
 don't talk to that gentleman like that; he is 
 trying to show you what the Bible says." He 
 answered by telling her to keep her "big clam" 
 shut. "What do you know about it?" We tried 
 to talk to him a bit more, but he told us he was 
 tired, so we just sat and looked at him for a 
 while, until we thought it time to leave. 
 
 Before going I said, "Jack, shall we pray for 
 you?" He answered, "That's up to you." We
 
 126 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 prayed and left the poor, wretched man to think 
 over what he had heard. The next day I again 
 went to see him. His spiritual condition was 
 unchanged. He was still unwilling to talk about 
 his soul's need. We prayed with him and left. 
 
 The following day the sick man sent word 
 that he wanted us to come over and pray with 
 him. This time we were able to have a short 
 conversation with him in which he showed con- 
 siderable interest. A day later he was removed 
 to the County Hospital, where he died within 
 forty-eight hours after his arrival. His spirit 
 returned to God who gave it, his wretched, 
 liquor-soaked body lies beneath the sod. 
 
 We conducted the funeral services, speaking 
 on Psalm 90: 12, "So teach us to number our 
 days that we may get a heart of wisdom." 
 We sought to impress the meaning of this truth 
 upon a motley crowd of well-to-do relatives and 
 sodden inhabitants of the slums. Some refused 
 to listen to our message and walked out. The 
 widow, for the first time now since her child- 
 hood days, attends the gospel meetings. Our 
 prayer is, "O God, help her to find Thee before 
 it is to late."
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 127 
 
 "MAMA, I AM SO COLD!' 
 
 OUR ATTENTION was called to a family 
 which was suffering acutely because of 
 lack of fuel and clothing. The mother came to 
 the Mission to tell us her troubles. She told us 
 a policeman had sent her to the Helping Hand 
 Mission, saying: "they will surely help you." 
 We listened to her story, and then told her to go 
 home to her children since we would see what 
 could be done for her. 
 
 Later in the day Miss Hanstra and myself 
 went to this home to investigate, to be able to 
 give the proper aid. Upon reaching the house 
 we asked for Mrs. H ., but were told that she 
 was not at home, but would return soon. We 
 walked in, sat down and waited. During these 
 moments we had a good opportunity to size up 
 the house which had but three small rear rooms. 
 There were four children, scantily dressed. 
 There was a stove but no fire in it; the beds had 
 no covers on them; a child which was sleeping 
 on one of the beds was covered with an old 
 coat. Presently we heard footsteps, the door 
 opened and the mother came in very much sur- 
 prised to see us. She hastened to explain her 
 absence by telling us that she had gone to an
 
 128 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 Italian bread-store a half mile away because 
 she there could buy bread three cents cheaper 
 than anywhere else. 
 
 "And now I am going to tell you just why 
 we are so hard up. My husband is not a very 
 strong man. For a long time he has not been 
 able to work. He is working now, but has not 
 yet received any money. I tell you it is hard! 
 That stove has had no fuel in it all day except 
 a few papers. Last night my little boy woke 
 up and said, "Mamma, I am so cold.' " As she 
 spoke her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 We tried to comfort the woman by telling 
 her about God and what He will do for us if 
 we will call upon His name. We told her what 
 the Psalmist says, "Call upon God in the day of 
 trouble, He will deliver thee." "O," she said, "I 
 have had lots of trouble in my life! My father 
 will not help me, will have nothing to do with 
 me, because I did not marry the man he wanted 
 me to marry. My father turns his back on me." 
 
 We told her that if she would take her 
 troubles to God that He would not turn His 
 back on her, since He is willing to help all those 
 who call upon His name. 
 
 We noticed that she knew very little about 
 God's Word. So we asked her if she had read 
 the Bible. She said, "No, I have no Bible, but if 
 you give me one I will read it." We prayed
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 129 
 
 together, left her enough money with which to 
 buy fuel, and told her to come to the Mission 
 for clothing and a Bible. The next day she 
 came, and was given the needed clothing for 
 herself, her husband and her children, and 
 covers for the beds. It was a heavy load she 
 had to carry, but she did not seem to mind it. 
 She also got her Bible. I wish you could have 
 seen that radiant face as she took the Bible in 
 her hands. She looked at it, then at her bun- 
 dles, and said, "I'm so glad." 
 
 Dear readers, it is a joy to help the needy, 
 it is greater joy to tell them of the dear Saviour 
 and His love. We are just hoping and praying 
 that the truths of God may find a good place in 
 her heart. 
 
 Should you not pray that as the Gospel 
 message is carried out to those who are yet 
 groping in the darkness of sin, it may be so 
 blessed that many will be brought to the Sav- 
 iour and be washed and cleansed in His blood 
 from all their sins?
 
 130 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 THINGS WE EMPHASIZE 
 
 THE Chicago Helping Hand Gospel Mission 
 seeks to be not merely a Christian mission 
 in a general sense, but specifically a Christian 
 mission of the Reformed type. 
 
 We aim to be Reformed both in the Message 
 we bring and in the Methods we use. 
 
 That is the reason our mission distinguishes 
 itself in the following ways: 
 
 First We emphasize the great sinfulness of 
 man, his lost and depraved condition apart from 
 Christ not, of course, as an end in itself, but as 
 a means to an end, namely, to make men realize 
 their great need of salvation. Much preaching 
 today, not the least in missions, is weak because 
 of lack of emphasis on sin. 
 
 Second We aim to instruct as well as per- 
 suade men, both in our preaching and in our 
 class work. We reject the distinction that is 
 often made between "gospel" and "doctrine," 
 though, of course, mission preaching must be 
 simple, earnest and strongly persuasive. Mere 
 exhortation without instruction will make also
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 131 
 
 this kind of preaching superficial and stale. 
 This is especially true of preaching in a mission 
 like ours which prides itself on having a con- 
 siderable number of regular attendants. 
 
 Third We lay emphasis on work among the 
 families of our neighborhood. The visitation 
 of families is one of the most prominent feat- 
 ures of our work. We believe that God saves 
 families, not merely souls. Was this not Paul's 
 method also? Did he not preach the gospel 
 from house to house? And did he not say to the 
 jailer: "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and 
 thou shalt be saved, thou and thy house?" 
 
 Fourth We do not put undue emphasis on 
 "social service," but stress the spiritual needs 
 of man. True, we have sewing classes for girls 
 and mothers, manual training classes for boys; 
 we provide food and clothing, fuel and even 
 beds for those who are needy, yet all this is only 
 secondary. Man's greatest need is "the food that 
 perisheth not." Moreover, we use discretion in 
 caring for the bodily wants of those with whom 
 we come in touch. We seek to learn whether 
 those who apply for help are really needy. The 
 floaters, as they are usually called, who ask for 
 food or a bed, and have no work, are sent to 
 the wood-pile to earn what they get. We do 
 not believe that one can save men's souls by
 
 132 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 
 
 encouraging laziness. A man who has no self- 
 respect will surely have no sense of sin, and no 
 desire for salvation in Christ. 
 
 Fifth Our mission is not the private venture 
 of an individual, nor does it belong to a society 
 of individuals interested in mission work, but 
 is owned, controlled, and supported by six 
 Christian Reformed Churches of Chicago. The 
 denomination at large also contributes liberally 
 to its support. We believe it to be an important 
 Scriptural principle that mission work is a task 
 of the organized Church, and that individual 
 Christians have the right to engage in this work 
 only when the Church neglects its solemn duty. 
 There are also real practical advantages in the 
 application of this principle. 
 
 a. There is practically no danger that those 
 in charge of the work shall use the mission to 
 advance their own selfish interest. 
 
 b. It is unnecessary for the workers to 
 spend a large share of their time which should 
 be devoted to mission work, in soliciting funds 
 to operate the mission. They do not need to 
 worry about their salary! 
 
 c. Missions which are church-controlled 
 are, as a rule, closely supervised. As a result 
 harmful elements in the message brought or in
 
 THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN 133 
 
 the methods employed, do not so readily creep 
 in, and if they do enter in, can more easily be 
 removed than in missions of another type. A 
 church-control of missions prevents constant 
 changes of policy with unavoidable changes of 
 personnel among the workers. Contributors to 
 our mission can be reasonably sure that long 
 after the present force has laid down its work, 
 it will still be true to the principles for which 
 it stands.