ty at seventy dollars a month. When she rented it, we hadn't seventy
cents. We were to move into it the day of the accident. I insisted
that we proceed.

"Send for Jimmy Moohan," I said. Jimmy was a genial old Irish
expressman whose stand was at the New Haven Green. Jimmy came and
looked me over. Then came Bob Grant, a foreman from a near-by
manufacturing concern, and after him four Socialist comrades on their
way home from work.

"Ah, Mother o' God," Jimmy said, "shure it's an ambulance yer
riverence shud haave."

"I want you, Jimmy; pile me in."

"Holy Saints," he exclaimed, "shure th' ould cyart'll jolt yer guts
out!"

"Pile me in."

So they lifted me on the mattress and laid me in the express wagon.
Bob Grant sat beside me; the four comrades steadied it--two on each
side.

"Git up now, Larry, an' be aisy wid ye."

When the wagon wheel mounted a stone, Jimmy blamed Larry and swore at
him. Occasionally he would turn around and say: "How's it goin', yer
riverence?"

I was in such agony that I sweat. Pains were shooting through every
part of my body but I usually answered:

"Fine, Jimmy, fine!"

So I came back within the gates of the city--rejected, defeated,
deserted, and practically a pauper.

It had been a long fight but the city had conquered. A few more
attempts at work; a few more appeals for fair play, a few more
speeches for the propaganda; but as baggage in Jimmy Moohan's express
wagon I was down and out!

At a regular meeting of the Trades Council of New Haven a member moved
that a letter of sympathy be sent to me. A week after my fall, another
was made and carried to make me a member of the council and a third to
send me a check for fifty dollars. This was the only money I ever
received for my services to labour and as it arrived a few hours
before the agent called for his rent, it was very welcome.

It seemed odd to all sorts of people that, after being starved out, I
should bob up again in one of the largest houses on Chapel Street--I
couldn't quite understand it myself. My wife could, however. She said
the whole business of life was a matter of mental attitude and she
only laughed when I asked whether there was any chance of my being
kicked to death by a mule for the next month's rent!

I made another attempt to interest the students of Yale in the human
affairs of New Haven. Ten years previous to this, when there was some
suggestion that I take charge of Yale's mission work, I was as