It pains us to announce that the Young Men's Christian Association, which
has had rooms on two sides of our office for more than a year, has moved
away. We do not know why they moved, as we have tried to do everything it
was possible to do for their comfort, and to cheer them in their lonely
life. That their proximity to the _Sun_ office has been beneficial to them
we are assured, and the closeness has not done us any hurt as we know of.
Many times when something has happened that, had it happened in La Crosse,
might have caused us to be semi-profane, instead of giving way to the
fiery spirit within us, and whooping it up, we have thought of our
neighbors who were truly good, and have turned the matter over to our
business manager, who would do the subject justice or burst a flue.
When the young Christians have given a sociable, we have always put on a
resigned and pious expression and gone amongst them about the time the
good bald-headed brother brought up the pail full of coffee, and the
cheerful sister cut the cake.
No one has been more punctual at these free feeds than we have, though we
often noticed that we never got a fair divide of the cake that was left,
when they were dividing it up to carry home for the poor. We have been as
little annoyed by our neighbors as we could have been by anybody that
might have occupied the rooms.
It is true that at times the singing of a church tune in there when we
were writing a worldly editorial has caused us to get tangled, but the
piety that we have smuggled into our readers through the church music will
more than atone for the wrath we have felt at the discordant music, and we
have hopes the good brothers will not be averse to saying a good
word for us when they feel like it.
When we lent the young Christians our sanctum as a reception room for the
ladies when they gave the winter picnic to the dry goods clerks, we _did_
feel a little hurt at finding so many different kinds of hair pins on the
carpet the next morning, and the different colors of long hair on our
plush chairs and raw silk ottoman would have been a dead give away on any
other occasion, but for this, even, we have forgiven the young Christians,
though if we ever do so again, they have got to agree to comb the lounge
and the chairs before we shall ever occupy the rooms again.
There is nothing that is so hard to explain as a long hair of another
color, or hair pins and blue bows and pieces of switch. They are gone and
we miss them. No more shall we hear the young Christian slip on the golden
stairs and roll down with his boot heel pointing heavenward, while the
wail of a soul in anguish comes over the banisters, and the brother puts
his hand on his pistol pocket and goes out the front door muttering a
silent prayer, with blood in his eyes.
No more will the young Christian faint by the wayside as he brings back
our borrowed chairs and finds a bottle and six glasses on our centre
table, when he has been importuning us to deliver a temperance speech in
his lecture room. Never again shall we witness the look of agony on the
face of the good brother when we refuse to give five dollars toward
helping discharged criminals to get a soft thing, while poor people who
never committed a crime and have never been supported by the State are
amongst us feeling the pangs of hunger. No more shall we be compelled to
watch the hard looking citizens who frequent the reading room of the
association for fear they will enter our office in the still watches of
the night and sleep on the carpet with their boots on.
They are all gone. They have crossed the beautiful river, and
have camped near the _Christian Statesman_ office, where all is pure and
good except the houses over on Second street, beyond the livery stable,
where they never will be molested if they do not go there.
Will they be treated any better in their new home than they have been with
us? Will they have that confidence in their new neighbors that they have
always seemed to have in us? Well, we hope they may be always happy, and
continue to do good, and when they come to die and go to St. Peter's gate,
if there is any backtalk, and they have any trouble about getting in, the
good old doorkeeper is hereby assured that we will vouch for the true
goodness and self-sacrificing devotion of the Milwaukee Young Men's
Christian Association, and he is asked to pass them in and charge it up to
the _Sun_.