CHAPTER I.

E-text prepared by Joel Erickson, Tonya Allen, and Project Gutenberg

Distributed Proofers

FIFTEEN YEARS WITH THE OUTCAST

By

MRS. FLORENCE (MOTHER) ROBERTS

1912

[Illustration: MRS. FLORENCE (MOTHER) ROBERTS.]

PREFACE.

A missionary, upon returning from his field of labor in India, was

making an effort to stir up the sympathies of the people in behalf of

the heathen. By telling his countrymen of the influence of the gospel

upon the Indians and of the hundreds, even thousands, of them who had

become Christians, he succeeded in creating an interest among many of

his friends. He told many stirring experiences of the difficulties

encountered in the missionary work, and gave affecting accounts of the

persecution of the native Christians because of their turning from

their idolatry and former beliefs.

A noted English hunter had just returned from a hunting tour in Bengal.

These two men were invited to speak at a certain assembly. The large

audience listened attentively to thrilling experiences of the hunter as

he related the hairbreadth escapes in the jungles and told of the many

Bengal tigers seen and killed. After he had finished his account of his

hunting tour, he was asked to give a report of the missionary work as

he had found it in India. He stated that in all his travels in Bengal

he had not seen a native Christian and, further, that he did not

believe there were any, but that there were plenty of tigers. He said

that he had not seen a missionary on the field and that the

missionaries were deceiving the people by their reports.

The missionary was stung to the heart. He knew that the people were

almost ready to cast him down in derision because of the powerful

influence this noted hunter had exerted over the audience. When he

arose, trusting the Lord for wisdom that he might be able to convince

his hearers of the real situation of missionary work in India, he

kindly referred to the statements of the eminent hunter and said: "He

has related his exciting experiences in tiger-hunting and has told you

that tigers abound in that country. Why should I believe his word?

Though I spent several years in Bengal, yet I never saw a tiger outside

of a cage nor any one hunting tigers. He says he did not see a native

Christian or a missionary on the field. I have seen hundreds of them,

have lived among them, have taught them, and I am able to verify my

statements. Shall I discredit the statements of the hunter because I

saw no tigers? I was not looking for tigers; therefore I did not go to

the jungles to find them. He was not looking for Christians and

missionaries, and for that reason he did not go to the plains where

they were to be found." The words of the missionary had the desired

effect, and the cause that he represented was sustained.

It has often been said that the world is growing better and that the

places of vice are few; but if the veil is drawn aside only enough to

give a glimpse of the pitfalls of darkness and sin, one is made to

stand aghast and lift the hands in horror. How little is known of the

next-door neighbor! In our cities many people do not even know the

names or the occupations of those living in the next room or in some

other apartment of the same house. Oft-times dens of vice are almost at

our door, and we know nothing of their existence until we are awakened

by some sad occurrence that might have been avoided "had we known."

Many parents fear to inform their children of the evils of the world

and of the dives and pitfalls of vice. This false modesty, or failure

to impart knowledge, places children face to face with danger without

their suspecting any harm.

There are gambling-dens, houses of ill-fame, and various other places

of vice, where young and old are led astray. The "white slave

traders"--those who decoy and sell girls and young women for such

places--are ever on the alert.

The author of this book has spent years in trying to rescue girls from

such a life, and "Fifteen Years with the Outcast" will undoubtedly do

much to counteract the influence of these places of vice and infamy.

Fathers and mothers should place this volume in the hands of their

children and should encourage them to become sufficiently informed

concerning such things not only to protect themselves but also to warn

others.

With a desire that the influence of this book may reach the highest

anticipations of the author I am

Yours in Him,

E. E. Byrum.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Little Rosa--A Warning to Mothers and Guardians

CHAPTER II.

A Visit to Sacramento--The Outcome

CHAPTER III.

My First Autoharp--I Forsake All to Follow Jesus

CHAPTER IV.

I am Introduced to the Rescue Home Family--A Glorious Test

CHAPTER V.

A Crushing Situation--Wonderful Vision--Story of Rita

CHAPTER VI.

My First Call to the Prison Work

CHAPTER VII.

Leila

CHAPTER VIII.

I Bid Farewell to the Sacramento Home

CHAPTER IX.

Woodland (Continued)--A Boycott

CHAPTER X.

A Brief Call to Sacramento--I Enter the San Francisco Field

CHAPTER XI.

I am Introduced to the Dives of Barbary Coast

CHAPTER XII.

Mary

CHAPTER XIII.

Services in County Jail, Branch No 3

CHAPTER XIV.

Lucy--A Remarkable Experience

CHAPTER XV.

We Plan for a Home for Released Prison Girls

CHAPTER XVI.

Santa Clara Experiences

CHAPTER XVII.

Callie's Wonderful Story

CHAPTER XVIII.

Callie and I Visit the Jail, the Morphine Den, and the Mission

CHAPTER XIX.

Still Southward Bound--Santa Cruz--Lucy Returns to Her Home

CHAPTER XX.

Joe's Story

CHAPTER XXI.

I Depart for Pacific Grove--Meet Lucy Again--Her Baptism

CHAPTER XXII.

Anna--We Leave for San Jose

CHAPTER XXIII.

Northward Bound--The Outcome

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Suicide of L----.--Its After-effect

CHAPTER XXV.

Good News from Home--Miss Loraine

CHAPTER XXVI.

Lucy's Letter--The School Teacher

CHAPTER XXVII.

San Quentin--We Secure a Lovely Property

CHAPTER XXVIII.

God's Best

CHAPTER XXIX.

Dedication of Beth-Adriel

CHAPTER XXX.

The Juvenile Court Commission--Henry

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Annual Board Meeting--Dollie's Story

CHAPTER XXXII.

Lost Sheep--The Ex-prisoners' Home--Hospital Scenes

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A Wonderful Leading--How Girls Are Lured to the Dance-halls

CHAPTER XXXIV.

The Women of B--- up in Arms--The Sisters Taken Home

CHAPTER XXXV.

Santa Cruz--Beba's Letter--The Earthquake

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Relief Duty--San Francisco--Miss B----

CHAPTER XXXVII.

The Home Repaired--Mrs. S----'s Experience

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

The Annual Board Meeting--Results

CHAPTER XXXIX.

A Trip East--I Escape from a Confidence Woman

CHAPTER XL.

My Homeward Journey--Land for the Training School and Home

CHAPTER XLI.

I Call on the Governor and Then Go South

CHAPTER XLII.

Los Angeles Dance-halls and Other Places

CHAPTER XLIII.

Woman Employed at Dance-hall Tells of Many Pitfalls

CHAPTER XLIV.

Sarah

CHAPTER XLV.

The Women Prisoners of San Quentin

CHAPTER XLVI.

Vallejo, Mare Island, and Alcatraz

CHAPTER XLVII.

Irene's Awful Fate--The Wages of Sin

CHAPTER XLVIII.

My Return to the Missionary Field

CHAPTER XLIX.

Some Precious Letters from Precious Children

CHAPTER L.

Conclusion

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Florence (Mother) Roberts

The Dive-keeper's Daughter

Mary

The Redwood City Street Meeting

Scene in a Morphine Den

"99 years, Mother Roberts!" Poor Joe!

View of Yard and Prisoners' Quarters, Represa, near Folsom

Bird's Eye View of San Quentin

"Everybody helped grease the hill I was sliding down. I soon reached

the bottom"

Poor Elsie!

Scene in a Dive Dance-hall

The Chittenden Home

Some Mother's Wandering Girl

San Quentin. Prison Yard

View of Warden's House, etc., Represa

LIST OF SONGS.

Words and Music by Mother Roberts.

The Messengers (the Doves)

Her Voice

Still Nearer

Was It You?

The Songs My Mother Sang

The Value of a Song

Some Mother's Wandering Girl

INTRODUCTION

REPLYING TO YOUR QUESTION.

"How did it happen that you became so deeply interested in rescue work,

Mrs. Roberts?"

Hundreds of times has this question been asked of me in various parts

of this State (California). In order, whenever time and place

permitted, to answer intelligently, I have replied by relating the

story of my conversion, through a vision, which occurred on the

afternoon of Sunday, Sept. 13, 1896.

For some time prior to this, with my husband, J. H. Roberts, a mining

man, also my son, an only child of fourteen, I had been living about

two and one-half miles from Angels, Calaveras County, California.

For lack of means to carry on the development work of the mine which

Mr. Roberts was at this time superintending, it closed. In order to

increase finances in our hour of need, I gave piano lessons. My health,

never in those days very robust, soon succumbed to the severe nervous

strain to which it was now continually subjected.

THE VISION.

On the never-to-be-forgotten date of my spiritual birth, whilst I was

enjoying a much-needed rest and reading a novel, everything in the room

seemed suddenly to be obliterated from my view; I became oblivious of

my surroundings and was apparently floating in an endless vista of

soft, beautiful, restful light.

I was quite conscious of rising to a sitting position, pressing my left

elbow into the pillow, and with the right hand rubbing both eyes in an

endeavor to see once more my natural surroundings. But no! Instead,

suspended in this endless light, appeared a wonderful colossal cross of

indescribable splendor. This wonderful cross can be likened only to a

gigantic opal. Its rays of light seemed to penetrate me through and

through as over my mind flashed the thought, "I must have died, and

this is my soul!"

For one brief moment I closed my eyes, then opened them, and now, in

addition to the vision of the cross, came an added one of such a

glorious Being that words are utterly inadequate to describe him. No

writer, be he ever so skilful, could give a satisfactory word-picture,

and no artist, be he ever so spiritual, could possibly depict the

wonderful majesty of our glorious, loving, royal Redeemer.

His left arm slowly raised. Presently his hand rested on the right arm

of the cross. Then the wonderful eyes looked into mine. _That one

compelling look drew me--forever--to him._ But that was not all. With

the right hand he beckoned, reaching downward toward me, and I saw the

sweet smiling lips move. Though no sound emanated from them, yet I knew

they framed the one word "Come!" whilst the hand slowly, gracefully

moved, pointing upward toward the cross. A ray of light revealed a

healed wound extending the entire length of the palm. Soon this

invitation was repeated, and so great became my desire to hide (because

of my unworthiness) beneath the cross that I must at this time have

slipped off the bed, for when once more conscious of my natural

surroundings I discovered myself kneeling on the floor.

Then for the first time in my life I saw myself as I believe God sees.

What a revelation of selfishness and carnality! What a realization of

utter unworthiness! My righteousness was indeed and in truth no better

than "filthy rags" (Isa. 64:6).

_Could God, would God, forgive?_

Mentally I decided that, had I been in his place, lavishing and

bestowing innumerable and untold blessings day after day upon one so

careless, so heedless of his wonderful love, I should find it very,

very difficult, nay, impossible.

Oh, how I _now_ longed, _now_ yearned, to be different, as I caught the

reflection of carnal nature in the spiritual looking-glass! With all my

soul I implored mercy and pardon.

Suddenly thick darkness, indescribably thick, seemed to submerge me. I

felt as though I were smothering. I tried to find my voice. Presently

consciousness returned, and the room appeared as natural as ever. I was

crying aloud, "Save me!" At the same time it seemed that something

weighty was rolling up like a scroll off either side of me. I felt

free, light as air, and from that moment began to experience the New

Life, the True Life. _Oh, I was happy! So happy!_

One, only one, desire now had possession--that I might forever remain

under this benign influence. Did ever the birds chirp so sweetly! Was

ever parched nature or dried-up grass more beautiful! Oh, why did I

have to come back to this world! But how selfish! Now came the longing

to share my joy with others; I was eager to do so. Would my husband's

visitor never go? Finally I heard him making his adieus. Bathing my

face and smoothing my hair, I went forth to impart the glorious news to

Mr. Roberts.

Well, he listened attentively, as with soul filled and thrilled with

divine love, I endeavored to describe my wonderful vision.

"What do you think of it, dear?" I asked.

"I think you were dreaming," he replied.

"Oh, but not so! I heard you talking to Mr. Rouse from the time he

came, though I was paying no attention to your conversation. How could

I?" I inquired.

"Nevertheless, my dear, it was only a dream," he insisted.

Something (an inner voice hitherto unrecognized) suggested that I ask

what he thought of it, even though it might be but a dream. He admitted

that it was wonderful and beautiful. (Afterwards he told me that he

would not have paid so much attention to my recital had it not been for

the unusual light on my countenance. "You can't think how you looked,"

he said. "Your face shone like satin!")

THE AFTERMATH.

Immediately following this God-given experience came the desire to

"search the Scriptures" (John 5:39). I regret having to tell you that

my Bible lay very near the bottom of a trunk and that the blessed

volume had not been opened for a shamefully long time.

It took me, in my spare time, something like three months to read the

book carefully from cover to cover. Not one word escaped me. I found it

to be so interesting--at first as a matter of history--that I began it

all over again. Thus it has been ever since; for to the Spirit-born

child nothing will, nothing can, take the place of the Bible. It is

always new, always refreshing. It is the voice of the tenderest, most

loving of parents, ever ready to answer our questions, comforting when

sorrowful, healing when sick, warning when in danger, ever directing,

admonishing, and encouraging under any and all circumstances. "Oh!" but

you say, "the chastening! You forget that." No, dear one, I do not. All

wise parents chasten their offspring. Would to God they would lovingly,

wisely administer more corrections than they do. The outcome, I verily

believe, would be a wonderful foretaste of heaven on earth. But I find

I am digressing.

Immediately following my conversion came the desire to impart the

knowledge received, to my friends and neighbors. The result was that a

report somewhat like the following was soon circulated: "Poor Mrs.

Roberts! Have you heard the news? Her husband's financial losses have

affected her mind; she is going crazy. Thinks she had a vision!" etc.

Then I began to realize what it means literally to "forsake all to

follow Christ." Heavier troubles followed, but they did not affect me

as heretofore. I had had the vision, and it had come to stay.

Illness presently brought me to the very threshold of eternity. With

animation temporarily suspended, but my soul and brain never more

keenly alive, I mentally implored the dear Lord to spare me for a

little while, because I did not now want to come to him empty-handed.

Oh! the longing to win souls, as I lay there helpless yet realizing

what it might mean to be forever debarred from the things which God had

prepared from the foundation of the world "for him that waiteth for

Him" (Isa. 64:4). How eager I was to tell the news to any one, no

matter to what depths he or she might have fallen! It was the immortal

soul that I was now anxious to reach. Lying there, I made an absolute

consecration, promising my heavenly Father that if he would restore me

to health and strength, I would go to whatever place he thought fit to

send me, and never hesitate to stoop to the lowliest for his sake and

theirs.

RESTORATION.

_God takes us at our word_. I wonder how many of us realize this?

Returning health and strength found me located with my family in

Redding, Shasta County. Here my husband and I, in the spring of 1897,

followed our Lord's example in baptism.

In Redding came many delightful opportunities to engage in church and

personal work for the Master. While I was visiting in Sacramento in the

fill of 1897 and attending revival meetings conducted in the First

Baptist church, came my first real knowledge of the unfortunate of my

sex.

Previous to this revival the Rev. Mr. Banks, now deceased, anxious for

these special services to be well attended, asked for volunteers from

his flock to distribute in every house in their immediate neighborhoods

a printed invitation. Whoever undertook this work was to pledge

themselves not to pass one house nor miss any opportunity for personal

work. Not two blocks from the place where I was rooming was a district

that I hitherto had never explored--in fact, had purposely avoided. God

now gave me strength to take up this cross, for which may I be forever

humbly grateful. But I shrank at first; for, unable to persuade any of

my acquaintances to accompany me, I had to traverse this neighborhood

alone. Did I say alone? Never did I experience a greater sense of

guardianship, of protection, of being in the best of company, though

these guardians and companions were visible only to the eye of faith

(Psa. 91:10-12).

That day I saw tears fall, and heard experiences of which I had

hitherto had scarcely any conception.

Touched by a loving hand, wakened by kindness,

Chords that were broken will vibrate once more.

Soon after this the first little rescue home for girls in Sacramento

was started by some consecrated young people. It was located on Second

Street near O. I did not have the pleasure of attending the opening of

this "shelter," because of a direct call to service about this time

with some traveling evangelists. I assisted them by giving out the

"good news" in song.

While I was traveling northward with these evangelists, there came into

my possession, in answer to prayer, my treasured, God-given little

autoharp, No. 1. My second was at one time the property of a now

pardoned State prisoner--his companion in his lonely hours when locked

in his cell.

"Where were your husband and your son all this time?" you inquire. The

former was away prospecting--his favorite occupation. The latter,

because of his love for the water and his desire to see other

countries, was an employee on an ocean-steamer.

MY SPIRITUAL MOTHER.

On Sept. 1, 1902, there passed into eternal rest one of the oldest

members of the First Methodist Episcopal church of San Francisco, Mrs.

Salemma Williams.

For more than twenty years this dear sainted friend, though I knew it

not, daily prayed and believed for my conversion. Five years before she

was made aware of the fact, her prayer had been answered. Her joy, when

one day I called upon her to impart the welcome news, knew no bounds,

and until she passed away we spent many happy days in each other's

company. A few hours before she went home, she gave her children and me

her parting blessings. The precious prayer of this dying saint as she

held her aged hands on my head comforts, sustains, and encourages me

now, even as it did then, and I believe that it ever will.

HER BLESSING.

"Lord, I thank thee for answered prayer. Make this, thy child,

wonderful for thee, Lord, wonderful for thee! for Jesus' sake. Amen."

Though she spoke with great difficulty, yet every word was distinctly

audible. About two hours later she sang (with me) the following lines

as she passed into eternal rest:

Oh! if there's only one song--I can sing

When in his beauty I see the great King,

This shall my song in eternity be:

Oh, what a wonder that Jesus loves me!

I am so glad that Jesus loves me!

Jesus loves even me.

SUMMARY.

Would that it were in my power to relate better, in "Fifteen Years with

the Outcast," the few incidents of the many which have come under my

personal observation. The real names of the principals of the stories

are withheld, but not so the names of personal friends.

Dear readers, I am well aware that this book, judged from a literary

point of view, would be regarded as a failure; but I make no

pretensions as a writer, nor do I entertain any aspirations for

literary fame. My sole object in endeavoring to present faithfully a

few experiences of my brief years of service for the Master is to warn

many who are in danger.

Interspersed between these covers are a few songs, the words of which,

with scarcely an exception, were written in the night, and, for the

most part, were culled from incidents of personal observation and

experience. Much valuable assistance has been rendered by a dear friend

in the transcribing and arranging of the music.

For those of my readers who do not yet know the dear Lord as their

personal Savior and Redeemer, my sincere prayer is, May they while

perusing these pages catch a glimpse of Him. May they, by faith, "wash

and be made clean," determining, God helping, to shun forever all evil

and evil companions. The sinful life never pays.

In order to make this book suitable for young people to read, much

concerning rescue work has been withheld. Parents will readily

understand why and will appreciate the omission. Doubtless they will

have little if any trouble in reading between the lines. God grant them

love and wisdom to interpret to their questioning boys and girls, and

may countless blessings from the Shepherd of our souls attend all into

whose hands this book may chance to come.

Yours, in precious service for Him,

(Mrs.) Florence Roberts.

P. S. Since the above was written, I had the occasion to visit one of

our California State prisons (San Quentin). I went at the urgent

request of a young man whom the officials recommended for parole. I had

a portion of the manuscript of this book with me, which the captain of

the guard, at my request, kindly allowed the young man and his

cell-mates to read. In consequence, we are indebted to one of these

dear boys (God bless him!) for some of the illustrations appearing in

this book. Others have been contributed by a young brother and sister

who are devoting their lives to God's service at the Gospel Trumpet

office.

EXPLANATORY.

This book was originally prepared for the press under the title, "The

Autobiography of an Auto-harp." It was then written in verse and

liberally interspersed with foot-notes. Upon more mature consideration

and also upon the advice of one of much experience as a writer, I have

rewritten the work and given it the title, "Fifteen Years with the

Outcast."

Although the change necessitates a continuous repetition of the

personal pronoun "I," a word whose avoidance was the primary object in

writing under the original title, yet the new form is, I believe, much

more interesting. Furthermore, time and experience have occasioned many

needful additions.

For fifteen years "I have fought a good fight," though not so good as I

would have desired, and although I am in the evening of life, I realize

that I have not yet "finished my course." There is still much more for

me to do in this sorrowful, sin-cursed world. God has, among other

blessings, given me a strong physique. By his unmerited power I am

keeping the faith, growing in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord

and Savior Jesus Christ.

My greatest longing and ambition is some day to see Him whom my soul

loveth, "face to face," especially to have the joy of bringing some

priceless trophies to lay at His blessed feet.

Most sincerely yours,

Florence (Mother) Roberts.

Gospel Trumpet Company,

Anderson, Indiana.

September 27, 1911.

FIFTEEN YEARS WITH THE OUTCAST

CHAPTER I.

LITTLE ROSA--A WARNING TO MOTHERS AND GUARDIANS.

What I am about to relate is my first experience in rescuing a girl and

occurred not long after my conversion.

At this time my husband, my son, and I were living in Redding, Shasta

Co., Cal. In the house that we were occupying lived another family

also, the little four-year-old daughter of which was an especial pet of

mine. While she was acting naughtily one day, thus hindering her mother

with the household duties, I bribed her to be good, by promising to go

down-town for some particularly nice candy made by a man who sold it

every day at a certain street corner, displaying it on a tray suspended

from his neck and always handling it with the whitest of cotton gloves.

When I reached the place, he had not yet arrived. Desirous of not

disappointing my little friend and having learned where the man

lived--in a tent on a lot near by--I immediately repaired to the place

designated. There I found a disreputable-looking middle-aged woman and

a forlorn little girl about twelve years old. The girl was in tears.

Upon my inquiring what was the matter, the woman immediately berated

the child in my presence. Turning to me, she said that this girl was

one on whom they recently had taken pity, and had hired to do chores.

As there was but one tent, I questioned also as to sleeping

accommodations. It contained a full-sized bed and one narrow cot,

between which was suspended a thin calico curtain. The cooking, eating,

etc., were done out of doors.

The poor little one continued to cry bitterly. With aching heart I laid

my hand on her bowed head and bade her to be a good girl and try her

best to please and obey her employers, then inquired of her whether she

had ever attended Sunday-school or knew anything about Jesus. She did

not reply. This caused the woman to accuse her of sulkiness, at which

the girl looked up with swollen eyes, full of tears. Oh that look! It

astonished and puzzled me at the time. Hatred? Yes, and despair, and

misery, and yearning. There was a volume in that look, which I could

not then interpret. Beyond words, it troubled me.

Silently praying, I went on my way. I had walked only a few yards

toward home, when I heard the quick patter of bare feet behind me, and

some one calling, "Lady! Lady!" Turning, I saw the little girl

breathlessly trying to overtake me. Quickly she poured into my ears a

horrible story of wrong, of indescribable wickedness perpetrated on her

for the vile gratification of that man--so celebrated as a candy maker.

Soon I was in the presence of Judge Sweeney (now superintendent of the

United States mint in San Francisco) relating the awful story of little

Rosa. Immediately after my rehearsal the man and woman were arrested.

Previous to going to live with these people Rosa had made her home with

a young married sister. The sister had a family of little children and

was poor: so when an opportunity presented itself for an apparently

good home for Rosa in exchange for light services, she quickly, gladly

availed herself of it, without making the _very necessary inquiry_ as

to who this man and woman (strangers in Redding) were or whence they

had come. Thus thoughtlessly did she relieve herself of a solemn

responsibility, the dying request of their mother, who had passed away

when Rosa was much younger.

A physical examination proved, beyond a doubt, the unfortunate child's

condition, and the law proceeded to take its course. The sister was

(temporarily) made responsible as Rosa's legal guardian. Here I quote

from "The Morning Searchlight" the article headed:

A SENSATIONAL CASE.

A little Girl Held Captive by G---- E----.

A petition for a writ of habeas corpus was filed in the Superior Court

Saturday by Mrs. M---- S----. This is the process by which she hopes to

obtain possession and care of her sister, Rosa L----. The girl is but

twelve years of age, her mother is dead, and she has been deserted by

her father.

Somehow, she has become acquainted with G---- E----, the street

candy-vender, and has, of late, been living in his tent in the

southeastern part of the city.

The petition further states: "That as your petitioner is informed and

believes, and therefore alleges the fact to be, that said restraint of

said minor by said E---- is for immoral purposes"

The hearing of the petition will take place before Judge Sweeney Monday

morning. If the points alleged in the petition are true, E---- should

be dealt with severely.

The trial was held behind closed doors. Poor little Rosa was too

nervous and frightened to give her testimony with sufficient

intelligence so that the law could deal with the couple as they

deserved. Through some technicality they escaped legal punishment, and

hurriedly stole out of Redding for parts unknown, fearing the vengeance

of an insulted, righteously indignant community.

The child was soon under the kindly care of a consecrated Christian

couple, and the last time we saw her she wore a smiling and happier

countenance. This dreadful experience, however, permanently wrecked her

health, so that she could be of but slight service to her new

guardians; but they, through wise and loving treatment, through

portrayal of Jesus in word as well as in deed, were doing all they

could do for this little shorn lamb, doing their best to aid in helping

to eliminate her awful past--a task by no means easy. Poor unfortunate,

sinned-against little Rosa! Her life forever blighted through the

shifting and shirking of responsibility on the part of the older

sister, who had promised the dying mother to carefully guard and guide

the little helpless girl. Poor ruined child! Shunned, whispered about

and pointed at by her schoolmates, she, sensitive girl that she was,

suffered so intensely from such treatment that it was deemed advisable

to have her study, as best she could, at home. There she need not be

subjected to the thoughtless torture of children, who, as children

will, had undoubtedly listened to, and learned from, the conversations

carelessly carried on in their presence by parents and other older

people, this unfortunate little girl's cruel, heart-rending fate.

Did this experience affect my future career? It certainly did. Let me

tell you. I firmly resolved, God helping, to live closer to the Master;

to aid in rescuing the outcast at any cost; to see and love their

souls, forgetting the sinning exterior; to help win them to Christ,

then encourage and further their advancement; constantly to sit so low

at the Savior's feet as to be ever able to discern and obey his still,

small voice; to be sufficiently strong in body, soul, and spirit, as

gladly to respond to his call at any and all times, whether that call

should be in the highways or hedges, streets or lanes, among rich or

poor, the prison boys or the outcast girls.

Earnestly I prayed, still I pray, for courage to address and warn

parents and guardians of the pitfalls concerning which I have, in

answer to prayer, increased knowledge, having been granted much

practical experience, sharing many a sorrow with others, mingling my

tears and sighs with many a parent, many a wanderer, and many an

outcast, who have poured their troubles into my listening ears.

The one cry, ever and always, from both parent and child, has been,

"_If I had only known_, I should have been less heedless, but now it's

too late, too late! O God! forgive me for Christ's sake." Does the bird

with the broken pinion ever soar as high again? Only through Christ,

the precious Redeemer of souls, the Great Physician.

Are we to take warning from the fate of little Rosa--we to whom our

heavenly Father has entrusted the care and keeping of his priceless

jewels until he comes to claim his own? May the Lord help us to learn

and love our lessons; to learn and love them well.

Fifteen Years with the Outcast · 第 1 / 50 章