for
bed I knelt down and turned my head as quick as a flash to catch the
throwers, for I knew they would throw again. Just as I turned I caught
the fellow in the act of throwing a bottle. It seemed as though the
Devil had got me for fair again, for I made a rush for that fellow, got
him by the throat, pulled him out of bed and jumped on him, and I think
if it hadn't been for the watchman I would have killed him; but he said,
"Dan, for God's sake don't kill him!" I let up, and, standing upon that
dormitory floor, beds all around, every one awake, about 11 P. M., I
gave my first testimony, which was something like this: "Men, I've quit
drinking--been off the stuff about two weeks, a thing I have not done in
years unless locked up. I've knelt and asked God to keep me sober and
have thanked Him for His kindness to me. Now if you men don't let me
alone in the future I'll lick you or you will me."

I went to my cot and knelt down, but I was so stirred up I couldn't
pray. I wondered if there was going to be any more throwing, but that
night finished it. I went up in the opinion of those men one hundred per
cent. I lived there until the place burned down, and was one of the
fortunate ones that got out alive when so many lost their lives, and I
always said my prayers and was respected by the men. I was making lots
of friends and attending Sunday-school, prayer-meeting, and mission
services.

THE STORY OF AN OVERCOAT

One Thanksgiving-time I was hired to carry dinners to the poor families
by the New York City Mission. Mrs. Lucy Bainbridge was the
superintendent. God bless her, for she was and is one good woman! I
didn't have any overcoat and it was cold; but I didn't mind, as I was
moving about carrying the dinners. This was about two months after I had
decided to follow Christ, and I still had the furnace job when I met
Mrs. Bainbridge.

She knew me by sight and asked me how I was getting on, and where was my
overcoat? I told her I was getting along all right, but I had no
overcoat. She said, "That's too bad! Come with me and we will see if
there's one in the Dorcas Room"--a place where clothes are kept that
good people send in for the poor who haven't so much. There were quite a
few coats there, any one of which would have suited me, but they didn't
please Mrs. Bainbridge. She said, "David, come into the office." She
gave me a letter to Rogers, Peet & Co., and told me to take it down
there and wait for an answer.

I we