_Fred and Doc_
When Fred Hanks left Fagin's, he started for the river determined
to end his life. Fred had made many desperate attempts to live
a sober life, but with him it was out of the question. He had
made resolution after resolution. He had taken the gold cure
and in less than forty-eight hours after being cured he was
drunk again. His own father had said to Morton, "There is no
hope for him, and I wish that he was dead." Five different times
Morton had prayed with him and Fred had promised each time to
stay away from drink and trust God; and he meant every word
he said. Men do not get to be drunkards from choice; they cannot
help it. It is the first drink that makes drunkards, not the
last. The hundreds of thousands of young men and women who are
drinking just for fun to-day will be a great army of helpless
drunkards to-morrow. Of course, if they were told this, every
one would laugh at the idea that they would ever be drunkards;
but, allow the question, where else do the drunkards come from?
Many men say they can drink or they can leave it alone. Every
drunkard in the world has been able to say the same thing sometime,
but that time passes for nearly every one. Men who say they
can drink or leave it alone, invariably drink. The same thing
is true with the poor fallen girl. Never did a girl start out
with the intention of going into the very depths of sin; but
Charles N. Crittenden tells us that three hundred thousand women
are living in houses of ill-fame in the United States alone.
Their average life is only five years and it takes six thousand
girls every thirty days to keep the ranks filled. Seventy-two
thousand girls enter upon a life of shame every year; again,
allow the question, where do they come from? No man starts out
to be a drunkard; no girl starts out to be a harlot; why are
there so many? Unconsciously they become slaves to sin, and
the result is, our country is reeking with this class of people.
One who has given a life among women of this class says that
nine out of every ten come from the dance hall. One thing is
certain, they all come from our homes. Nearly all would gladly
leave the awful life they are living if they could, but, like
poor Fred Hanks, they are bound hand and foot by sin. Nothing
but the power of God can save the fallen.
Fred went to the bridge over the East Side canal and, climbing
to the top of the railing, deliberately leaped into the dark
waters, twenty feet below. Several people saw him when he leaped
and he was rescued from the water before he could drown. When
the officer from the corner saw who it was he called the wagon
from the police station and Fred spent the night in his wet
clothing on the plank in a cell. As he was loaded into the wagon
several people inquired who he was. "Oh, only a drunken barber,"
was the reply; "we get him often. It ain't the first time he's
tried this."
The next morning, with Jimmie, Morton went to the station and
took Fred to his home. There was a change in Fred; Morton saw
something in him that he had never noticed there before.
"Fred," he said kindly, "you have had a very close call; but
God in His love and mercy has seen fit to spare you. What do
you mean to do with your life?"
"With God's help I'll give it all to Him." And right then and
there he unconditionally surrendered himself to God.
Mrs. Hanks took her baby in her arms and paid Fagin a visit.
"O Mr. Fagin, won't you please give Fred a chance to stay sober?
Every time he gets away from liquor for a few days, you do all
in your power to get him drunk again. Last night he nearly
succeeded in killing himself, after you had filled him up, and
you would have been his murderer had he accomplished his purpose.
Baby and myself have had nothing to eat to-day and I cannot
stand this strain much longer; for our sake, won't you give
him a chance?"
Fagin was very nervous as he thought of the awful way he had
acted. He promised her, not only to refuse Fred any liquor in
his place, but said he would do all in his power to keep it
away from him in other places. As she left the place, he slipped
a dollar into her hand and said, "Feed the kid; he looks hungry."
Fred was sick from the effects of his bath the night before;
but so determined was he to do right, that he went with Jimmie
to Doctor Snyder's office and from there to work. The doctor
gave him some medicine and called him "a d---- fool" for his
attempt of the night before.
"Say, Doc," said Jimmie, "Fred's got Jesus ter-day and boozin'
and him is done. Ter-night in der Mission he's goin' ter speak
erbout it. Yer promised ter come down some night; won't yer
come ter-night t' hear Fred?"
"If Fred will speak I'll come down and sit on the front seat,"
said the doctor, tauntingly, as he turned to Fred.
"You'll be on the front seat then," said Fred, "'cause I'm goin'
to speak if God lets me live. I've tried lots of times to brace
up, but this time I'm trustin' God. If you're a man of your
word you'll be in the Mission to-night and on the front seat
too."
That night the doctor was there. He had several drinks aboard,
but was not in the least intoxicated. After the singing and
Scripture reading the meeting was thrown open for testimonials.
Bill and Mrs. Cook stood up and told how God had saved them.
The doctor had never heard them speak before and he at once
became very much interested. When Mike Hardy stood up to speak
the doctor was so surprised that he turned around in his chair
and unconsciously said, "Well, I'll be d----! When did he get
into this game? If there's nothing in this religion they're
talking about, a mighty lot of people are getting fooled in
this Mission business."
Fred Hanks took hold of a chair in front of him and with difficulty
rose to his feet. "I don't expect any one to take stock in me,"
he said; "I have made so many mistakes and turned the Mission
people so many times I am almost ashamed to look at them. I'm
not making any promises this time. I've turned my case over
to Jesus Christ. If I get drunk now, He's to blame, 'cause he's
running the whole shooting match. My life has been a failure
from start to finish. When I was a boy I carried papers; one
of my regular customers was an old Dutch woman, who used to
brew her own beer. Every evening when I delivered her paper
I got my glass of beer. I got so I looked ahead to it and when
I was sixteen years old I could drink as much beer as a man.
I learned the barber's trade, and before I was twenty years
of age I was known as a drunken barber. I braced up many times,
but when I started again I always went lower than I was before.
I got into trouble, was arrested, and pled guilty. On account
of my parents, the judge suspended sentence with the understanding
that if I ever took a drink, he would call me up before him
and give me five years. With the State prison staring me in
the face I managed to stay sober three months. During that time
I worked hard, got good clothes on me and married one of the
sweetest girls that ever lived. After our marriage--well, it's
the same old story; why should I tell it again? I've been in
jail all over this country. My picture is in the Rogues' gallery
in more than one city. I did not want to be dishonest, but a
man can't drink whisky and be honest.
"I have stolen the pennies out of my baby's bank to satisfy
that awful desire for whisky. Don't tell me that a man does
that because he wants to; I couldn't help it. God help me; I've
tried as hard as any man ever tried to be somebody but that
craving for whisky was there and it had to be first in my life.
Whisky was my god, I worshiped it, I loved it better than my
family, my life. I've taken the shoes off my feet in the winter
time and traded them for whisky. But to-day, thank God, I've
not even wanted a drink. The first day in years that I've not
wanted whisky is to-day. Gold cure failed; prison bars failed;
wife's tears failed; but Jesus has taken even the desire for
it away. When a man has that gnawing at his very vitals there
is but two things that will touch it, a big drink of whisky
or the Lord Jesus Christ. Thank God, I have Him, and I'll never
thirst again. Last night I leaped from the bridge into the water
to end my life; but God saved me from death and hell. I do not
understand how He can love such a brute as I am, but He does
and now I'm saved."
The doctor was very much moved by what he had heard.
"I never heard it just this way," he said. "The way you folks
put it it's a personal matter and I never could believe that.
I believe there is some great Supreme Being; but I do not believe
in a personal God. I think that after you die you get what's
coming to you; but you people say that you're saved right now
and you know it. That can't be."
In the inquiry meeting, Morton took his Bible and sat down beside
Dr. Snyder. "Doctor, read that verse," he said, opening his
Bible to John 5:24.
"Verily, verily I say unto you, he that heareth My Word and
believeth on Him that sent me, hath----"
"Does that mean, 'will have'?" asked Morton.
"No, 'hath,' is in the present tense," said the doctor.
"'Hath everlasting life', then, means that we have it now, don't
it, doctor?"
"That is what it says, sir."
"Now look at Isaiah 53:6," said Morton.
"All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned every one
to his own way and the Lord hath laid----"
"Not 'will lay'," said Morton. "'Hath laid' upon Christ 'the
iniquity of us all.' Does that mean you, doctor?" asked Morton.
"Can it mean me?" asked the doctor.
"If the Word is true, it means you," said Morton.
Like a flash it dawned upon the doctor that Jesus had borne
his sins in His own body on the tree. He leaped to his feet
and said: "All these years I've been a chump! I've never been
satisfied with myself. Had I known this was for me I would have
had it long ago." He was very happy and went from one to the
other shaking hands. When he met Jimmie, he hugged him.
"I want to go to Bucktown and tell the gang I'm saved," he said.
After the meeting Fred Hanks, Doctor Snyder and Jimmie went
from place to place in Bucktown and the doctor did all the talking.
He preached to every one he met. In Fagin's, he told them all
how Fred and he had been saved and begged every one of them
to give their hearts to God. The last place they went was to
the Dolly resort. Never was there such a plea made for purity
as the doctor made to that crowd of women. "There is something
better for you than this sort of life," he said. "God loves
every one of you and wants to save you now. If you will trust
Him to save you I will find you a different home than this."
He did not look for what happened.
"If you will find me a place where I can live like other people,
I'll leave here to-night," said one. "I don't like to live this
way, but there's no one cares for me."
About midnight the door-bell rang at the Morton home, and when
Mr. Morton opened the door, the doctor, Fred and Jimmie stood
there with three women from the Dolly resort.
"I was preaching to the people down in Bucktown," said the doctor,
"and I told them I'd find them a better place to live if they
would trust God. They took me at my word and I have nothing
else to do but bring them here."
Every bed was filled but they were made welcome by Mrs. Morton.
"Come right in," she said. "One of you can sleep with Floe and
the other two can sleep in this bed downstairs. To-morrow we
will get another bed and put it in Floe's big room."
Mr. and Mrs. Morton slept on the floor that night.
When Jimmie reached the barn it was two o'clock.
"Where in the world have you been, Jimmie?" asked Dave.
Jimmie told Dave of all that had taken place and he was as much
interested as was Jimmie.
"Gee, der doc is a comer sure!" said Jimmie. "He can preach
jus' as good as he can peddle pills."