CHAPTER XIV
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."