has
a sadder lot. These unhappy mortals have yielded to temptation, have
fallen, and are paying the penalty of violated law. Who can think of
these degraded beings, without, to some extent, its calling forth the
sympathy of the human heart, for we must not forget that they, too, are
children of one universal Father. However deplorable the condition of
these men while in prison, is it much better when they regain their
freedom?

One morning about a month after my release from prison, as I was getting
ready for breakfast, there came a knock at the door. Opening it I saw
a young man--a tramp--who begged for something to eat. I recognized
him immediately as a former fellow-convict. He had forgotten me. It has
always been a rule in my home, when any one came to my door hungry, he
should have something to eat. At times, adhering to this practice has
almost converted my home into a hotel for tramps. I invited this young
man in, and requested him to take a seat with me at the table. He did
not wait for a second invitation. He was very hungry. During the meal I
inquired as to his past history. He gave me the same old tramp "racket."
I had listened to the same story many times. After breakfast was over
I asked him if he would have a cigar. With a smile, he said, if I would
furnish the cigar, he would be pleased to indulge. I invited him into
another room, closed the door and locked it. The turning of the key
rather took him by surprise. I reached out my hand to him, and said:
"Charley D----, don't you know me? Don't you remember the man who worked
with you for a couple of weeks in the penitentiary coal mines, room
No. 3? Have you forgotten the last day we worked together, when a large
piece of slate fell upon your leg, and I had to assist you in reaching
the foot of the shaft as you were being conveyed to the hospital?"

"My God! Reynolds, is this you?" he exclaimed. "I would never have known
you in your pleasant surroundings. Had I met you in the penitentiary
coal mines, dressed in prison stripes, your face and hands covered with
coal dust, I would have recognized you."

I gave him his much coveted cigar and invited him to a chair. I was
anxious to learn his history since he left the prison. He had regained
his liberty almost one year before I was released.

After he had reached the quiet contentment which is the inevitable
result of a well appreciated breakfast and a good cigar, I said to him:
"Charley, just drop your tramp