Fifteen Years with the Outcast Part 26

"Elsie, it was your dear mother, who has never ceased to love you and to look for you all these years, and has kept the home so pretty and comfortable, waiting for you to come back."

"Where is mother? Don't, oh! don't tell me she is here."

"No, dear, she is at home. It is nearly a year since she asked me to try to find you."

"Elsie do you love Jesus?" I continued. "Have you asked him to forgive you?"

"It's too late, I've been too bad."

"We have all sinned, Elsie. 'All have come short of the glory of G.o.d.'

May I pray for you?"

"Yes, if you think he'll hear."

After my prayer she offered one--so short but oh! so contrite, so very, very contrite.

I called again the next day. She could barely speak even in a whisper, but she managed to let me know that she had had a beautiful dream and that after her death I was to write her mother that Elsie's last words to me were, "Tell mother I'll meet her in heaven," but not to let her know when and where her daughter died. She pa.s.sed away that night. The letter to the mother was very brief, and no address given, so that there was no opportunity of subsequent correspondence. Three months later news came to me that the poor, loving, well-meaning, though mistaken mother had gone to join her dearly loved, lost and found Elsie in that "land that is fairer than day."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A WONDERFUL LEADING--HOW GIRLS ARE LURED TO THE DANCE-HALLS.

Early in March, 1906, I returned to a board meeting at Beth-Adriel, following which I began speculating as to my next move, for as yet I had no direct leadings. Before retiring I prayed earnestly to know the mind of the Spirit. It was in the neighborhood of 2 A.M. when I awakened with the impression to "Go to B---." As I knew it would be an expensive trip, I decided to ask the ticket-agent whether he would grant a stop-over privilege on my half-rate ticket. Learning that he would, I decided to take every advantage of this and eventually, say within six weeks, to reach B---. That afternoon, whilst on the train, I suddenly remembered that I had ordered my trunk checked to B---, and again I felt that strong impression to _go right through_. So when the conductor called for tickets, I forfeited all stop-over privileges.

I arrived there about 2 A.M., and at once went to the leading hotel.

About ten o'clock the following morning I was asking the gentlemanly clerk a question similar to the one I had asked the Redwood City depot-agent. It quite disconcerted him for a moment; but, upon learning my object, he referred me to a Salvation Army woman, whom I immediately looked up and fortunately found at home. She was pleased to receive one on such an errand, and agreed to accompany me to the dance-hall and slum district that night.

My next errand was room-hunting. Very seldom do I remain more than one night in a hotel in a strange town, for almost invariably many doors are soon opened to the non-salaried workers in the Master's vineyard.

Then the next thing is to walk around in order to get my bearings and familiarize myself with the town, the churches, the press, the pastors, etc As soon as possible I call upon the pastors and make engagements to fill pulpits. This privilege, however, is granted only after the ministers have, to their satisfaction, examined my credentials and indors.e.m.e.nts.

At seven o'clock that evening I was again with Mrs. Wilson, now attired in her regulation uniform, and at half-past eight we stood in one of the popular dance-halls. Here dancing, drinking, smoking, and gambling were being indulged in by black, white, tan, and mulatto of both s.e.xes.

Barring a few exceptions, I have never seen such an array of the inferior type of nationalities. The place was crowded; for this was Sat.u.r.day night and also St. Patrick's Day.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SCENE IN A DANCE HALL]

While Mrs. Wilson was at the bar asking if I might sing and speak, a slender, fair-haired girl suddenly seized my left hand and quickly whispered: "Lady, we are trapped. Quick! your number. Where do you live? Act as though you weren't speaking to me. The proprietor may be watching. I'll be there at ten in the morning." I immediately gave my street and number, and she skipped away, just as Mrs. Wilson returned to tell me that she had not succeeded. This refusal was only what we had expected. After distributing a few tracts we were requested to desist; so we concluded to go elsewhere. _That sight was sickening._ And that refined-looking girl--who was she? What did she mean? We shall soon learn.

Other places which we visited that night were equally as bad, in fact, indescribably so, and they were numerous. However, we did what we could; but only once could I make use of the autoharp, and then only to sing to the poor souls coming out of the first dance-hall, for we held a brief street-meeting. I observed that not one girl or woman put her head out of the door; afterwards I learned that a fine of $2.50 was imposed for every offense of this nature between the hours of 7:30 P.

M. and 3:30 A.M.

Upon returning from my breakfast the following morning, I was informed by my landlady that two young women were awaiting my return. After the greeting both commenced to talk so excitedly that I requested one to be the spokesman for the other. They appeared to be nearly of an age, about sixteen and seventeen, and were sisters. As nearly as I can remember, this was their story:

"We were attending high school several miles from our home. When we returned home at the time of the spring term, we learned that father's crops had failed and that mother was almost disabled from rheumatism.

What little reserve fund they had was almost used up for medicines and necessities; so after a discussion of the matter they agreed to let us go to the city (San Francisco) to work, provided we should promise not to separate. This would leave our fourteen-year-old sister to help mother, and the two boys to a.s.sist father.

"A few days later we, alter kneeling in prayer with our mother, started on our journey. In a few hours we were asking the matron at the Oakland ferry-depot for a respectable lodging-house. She directed us, and from there we obtained situations as waitresses in a first-cla.s.s private hotel on Bush Street, where we remained and gave satisfaction for some time; but one afternoon we were foolish enough to yield to the persuasions of some of our girl companions to take a car ride to the Park and Cliff House. I suppose we were enjoying ourselves so much that we did not realize how quickly the time was slipping away until some one remarked, "O girls, look at the clock!" It was within fifteen minutes of the hour when dinner must be served. We all ran for our car.

When we arrived at the hotel, the landlady had put a new crew in our places. She would listen to no excuses, but told all four of us to go to the office for what wages were due us. Ours wasn't much, for we had been sending most of it home right along; so we were soon reduced to our last dollar.

"One of the girls who had worked with us told us to go to a certain employment agency (situated then on Ellis Street). The man behind the counter seemed to have lots of situations, but only one where we could work together, and as _neither one of us knew how to cook_, we couldn't take it. It was for cook and second girl in a private family. 'Hold on,' he said, as we were about to leave and try some other agency; 'would you be willing to leave town? If so, I have a nice place for two waitresses in a resort patronized by none but the best people of the neighborhood.' We told him we couldn't afford to take it unless some one would advance our office fees and our fares. 'I'll see to that,' he replied. 'Can you be ready to leave right away?' There was nothing to prevent, as our trunks were packed with the expectation of obtaining immediate employment; so all we had to do was to go quickly to our room with an expressman, then take a car to the depot, where the agent would meet us, check our trunks, put us aboard our train, and leave us, with our tickets, bound for B----.

"My! how we did hurry through! The girls who roomed with us had gone out; so as our weekly rent was paid in advance, we didn't see even the landlady when we left our lodgings. We reached the Oakland Mole, took our train, and after a long day's journey arrived at our destination in the early morning hours. We were met by some woman, who brought us in a hack to the place where my sister spoke to you last night--only she did not take us into the dance-hall, but somewhere up-stairs, into a comfortable bedroom. In a few minutes she came with a nice meal on a tray, told us to eat, to put the tray outside the door after we had finished eating, and then to go to bed and sleep as long as we wanted to, as she knew we were tired; then she left us.

"It seemed to be pretty noisy in the neighborhood, but we were too weary to care, so were soon asleep. When we went to leave that room in the morning, we found we were locked in. Sister hammered on the door, and soon the woman came. She told us she had done it to keep the other lodgers from disturbing us; but before evening we knew that something was wrong, for she never lost sight of us for a moment. Then she told us there was going to be a dance that night, and asked us to look our best.

"About half-past seven we went with her downstairs and then along a pa.s.sage-way into that hall where you found us last night. Sister and I looked around for a minute, and then both of us said to the woman, 'What kind of a place is this?' There was a long bar, and two or three young men were cleaning gla.s.ses and wiping bottles, and there were lots of girls in fancy dresses standing around, chatting and some smoking cigarettes, also a few men, young and old. We were [reader, I will give you their exact expression] scared stiff. The woman, after introducing us to a fine-looking young man, said to him, 'These are the young girls sent by ----, the Ellis Street employment agent.' Then she took us into the dance-hall a few feet away. She told us that the young man was the proprietor of the place and that he would be a good friend, as would she, if we wouldn't 'do any kicking.' About 8:30 the crowd began to come in earnest, and by 9:30, and from that on, men and girls drank, danced, and cut up until closing-time.

"Mother Roberts, I can only liken our first night in that awful saloon and dance-hall to a bad nightmare.

"The woman didn't require us to dance unless we wanted to, until the second night; then she said that _we must_, or else we would be fined, and that as we already owed our fares, also other debts for incidental expenses, the sooner we made the best of the situation the better it would be for us. She called some girls to come and tell us how much they enjoyed the life they were now leading, and how much money they were making in percentage on the drinks that were sold across the bar to the men and them. They said we needn't drink whiskey if we didn't want to, as we would need to keep our heads if we were going to make all we could out of the men in getting them drunk."

"Why didn't you appeal to the authorities, girls?" I inquired.

"Mother Roberts, _they only laughed at us. We tried. It was no use.

They seemingly stood in with the proprietor_. Millie went to the post-office, accompanied by one of the girls, an old hand, the second day after we arrived, to see if any mail had been forwarded, and on the way back stepped into the ---- Hotel to inquire if they had any vacancies for two waitresses? The clerk asked, 'What address?' She was too ashamed to tell him where we really were; so told him to drop a card into the post-office general delivery as soon as he had situations for two. About three days afterward she got a post-card saying there was one vacancy; but we couldn't take it, as we were more determined than ever not to separate."

When I told them how it happened that I came, those two poor girls cried with joy and thankfulness. And now to act quickly. We all knelt in prayer. They agreed to stay in my room whilst I went out to notify Mrs. Wilson and the pastors. Never in all my life did I work faster, and in an hour I had these sisters safely housed with Mrs. W--, as she would not be suspected of secreting them. At two o'clock the pastors met me in one of the church studies. They decided to call immediately for a ma.s.s meeting of women on the following afternoon, to be addressed by me. Notices to this effect were gladly inserted by editors of the daily papers. _The whole community was astir._

In the meanwhile the dive-proprietors were searching for the girls. No one suspected Mrs. Wilson or me. In fact, those dive-keepers had not regarded me as any more than an ordinary visitor that night of my introduction to their dance-halls, and had not noticed the girl speaking to me.

Before they left B----, the following article came out as an editorial in one of the leading daily papers. It appeared on the morning of March 23, 1906.

HOW GIRLS ARE LURED TO DANCE-HALLS.

The general interest in the efforts to better the conditions of the fallen women, make timely a rough outline of the methods by which girls are lured into the haunts of vice, and kept there until they have lost all power or desire to escape and win their way back to decency and respectability. It is not pretended that this line is accurate, or that it fits any particular case, but the information on which it is based is gained from what are believed to be reliable sources, and it is not likely to be misleading: if applied in a general way.

HOW GIRLS ARE LURED.

In the first place, of course, no girl that has not made some misstep or committed some indiscretion, could be enticed to a dance-hall or kept there for a moment if it were possible to get her inside its doors. But in every city or village in the country there are persons in the guise of men [yes, and women also] who are actively interested in helping girls to make the first misstep. These scouts and envoys of infamy are at the public dances; they waylay waitresses and working girls who are struggling to keep themselves on wages that are insufficient for their actual needs of food and clothing.

They get into the confidence of these girls, and sometimes when they are "down on their luck" or when they have committed some act that makes them ashamed to look their family or their employers in the face, these men come in the name of friends.h.i.+p and promise to find the overworked and underpaid girl, or the indiscreet girl, a place where she can earn money fast and earn it easily.

THE DANCE-HALL LIFE.

As a usual thing the girls are taken to some place in another town where they are not acquainted. This suits the girl, because she does not want to meet her acquaintances, and it suits the man, because it gives him greater security in his evil transaction. The girl is nearly always penniless at this stage, and the man advances the money for the railroad ticket and the necessary food. The first act that lures the girl to the dance-hall is disguised as an act of friends.h.i.+p, and the first bond that is placed on her to keep her there is the bond of grat.i.tude and obligation. In addition to that, where would she go if she did not like her first glimpse of the dance-hall, an ignorant, friendless girl in a strange town?

THE "RULES" OF THE HOUSE.

One of the first things in which the recruit to the dance-hall is instructed is the rules of the house. She must be on the floor, ready to dance at seven o'clock, and they must remain on duty until 3 A.M., or so long as the patrons of the house continue to come and buy drinks.