SARAH.
Whilst doing a house-to-house work in one of our large coast towns,
also filling various pulpits whenever opportunity permitted, I was on
one occasion cordially invited to enter the lodging of a girl, who,
when I was seated, quickly turned the key in the lock, remarking as she
did so: "You're just the kind of a person I have been hoping this long
time to meet. Excuse me for locking you in, but I don't want to be
disturbed while you are here, where I'm truly ashamed to have you find
me. I want to tell you my situation and see if you can not immediately
get me out of this awful predicament."
Calling attention to the fact that there was no odor of liquor, no
signs of cigarettes about, and stating that in consequence she was
unpopular with the habitues of the other lodgings in the immediate
vicinity, she inquired:
"Do I look like a hardened sinner?"
"You certainly do not," was my reply.
"Oh! I'm so relieved," she rejoined, "so relieved to hear you say so,
because I want to get away from this life, and I am sure you can help
me."
"All that is in my power, dear girl," I assured her. "Now tell me your
story."
"I've a little brother and sister," she began. "My father, when I was
seventeen years of age, ran off with another woman and deserted poor
Mother, who took it so hard that she lived only two years. This left me
to provide for the children. I had to get some help from the county for
the funeral expenses, and it wasn't easy to make a good appearance and
provide properly for the little ones on what I was earning."
"What were you doing for a living, dear?" I asked.
"I was working in a laundry, from early morning till, many times, late
at night. I got a dollar a day and for over-time was paid extra." (If I
remember correctly, she said ten cents an hour.)
"Was that sufficient to provide food, clothing, and shelter for all
three of you?" I inquired.
"No, mam, though I managed somehow. I boarded them with an old friend
of mother's, who was very kind, and I felt she was never paid enough
for her trouble, so you may be sure I was constantly on the lookout for
a better-paying job. At last I thought I had struck one, but for a
while it would take me away from them, for it was away off in Nevada.
"I answered an ad in the morning paper for a situation in a hotel. The
man and woman wanted me right away, as they were leaving on the evening
train, and would take me with them, also two others. So I quickly made
all my arrangements. Two days later we were there, and it took me no
time to see that our principal work would be to wait on tables in the
saloon and gambling-hall. _I had no money, and was in debt. What could
I do but make the best of it? and it is surprising how soon one can_."
"Yes, my child. I've frequently heard others make the same sad
remark--but proceed with your story."
"I was making quite a bit, besides sending money home to keep the
children, when something happened which made me so despondent [she did
not say what it was] that one day I quit my job, and one of the girls
said, 'Go down to ----, Sarah. You'll be able to get plenty of honest
work there, at good wages.' So I left; and, believe me, I hadn't struck
---- before some one on the train recognized me as one of the girls who
had worked in the ---- Hotel. It was all up with me now. In my despair
I took this den, for which I pay one dollar and fifty cents a day. I
loathe, I hate the business. I am ready and willing to go into
anybody's kitchen and work, and work hard and well, for I know how. Do
you think you could get any one to hire me?"
As she had been brought up by a God-fearing mother, we knelt together
in that vile den, where we both prayed. With the tears streaming down
her cheeks, she prayed her mother's God and her God to forgive her for
having been so weak as to yield to the devil, all because she wanted
more money so as to be able to provide better for the little brother
and sister, and implored Him to give her employment where she could
have them near her until they were old enough to do for themselves.
Now listen to how God answered that prayer. On the next evening
(Sunday), whilst I was addressing a large audience in the
Congregational church, I related this girl's experience and then
requested honest work for her, emphasizing thus: "She claims to be
capable; she looks it; therefore she can earn good wages. Whoever is in
need of such a girl, please privately inform me at the close of this
service." In less than an hour, that girl could have had her choice of
five situations in responsible families. I chose one for her, and for
aught I know to the contrary, she may be there still. (Reader, it is
impossible to keep track of different ones, there are so many.) She
gave such excellent satisfaction that erelong her little brother and
sister were provided a good home in her immediate neighborhood, and
scarcely any one is the wiser for her unfortunate error.
Thus the rescue worker occasionally sees happy results of the travail
of soul for the lost ones; but would to God there were many more
Christian employers like the one Sarah found, who treat her so kindly,
as well as give her what she is capable of earning, that she makes
extra effort to prove her appreciation and gratitude. "But," you say,
"there are not many like Sarah." True; also there are not many
Christians like Sarah's employers. In fact, they are very, very rare.
Many a time have I wearied myself in vain in an endeavor to procure
honest employment for some young girl who has been convicted and
imprisoned a short time for her first offense and who has told me of
her capabilities and begged me to procure employment pending her
release, so that she would not have to return to her undesirable home
and surroundings, with their accompanying temptations.
"We dare say she means well enough now, but we could not think of
hiring her until some one has first tested and proved her trustworthy.
Besides, there are other members of our family; they must be taken into
consideration," is the frequent excuse. Thus the responsibility is
shifted, and, sick and sad at heart, we go away to inform the poor girl
who wants honest work that our efforts have proved futile. We then
implore her to make her home in one of the refuges until she can once
more become established, only to hear her say: "That would hoodoo me
for sure. You know as well as I do that scarcely any wages are offered
to a girl who is hired out of a rescue home, even if she is quite
capable." Reader, it is shamefully true. Oh! why will professed
Christians take so mean an advantage of the situation and expect girls
who have made some mistake, but _have the courage to live it down_, to
go to work at menial employment for little or nothing? Under such
circumstances, what inducement have they who, if encouraged, would do
better?
May the dear Lord as never before give us an introspective vision of
ourselves as he sees us. This will surely clothe us with the mantle of
Christ-like charity, in the event of our determination to live up to
our profession and numberless privileges.
[Illustration: SAN QUENTIN, PRISON YARD.]