I stepped directly in front of the window and looked at the apples and oranges. A woman inside seemed to have her eye on me,—I fancied suspiciously. Instantly she stepped out and picking up one each of the fairest of the apples and oranges offered them to me. I hesitatingly regarded her gift. “Take them,” she said, “God made them to be eaten.” I had had nothing to eat for eighteen hours except my “charity” bowl of barley soup and with it the warning not to come back. The city of Cleveland had nothing to offer. It remained for a poor woman to give me a portion of her small possessions.
I reached the Square. Broken, I dropped into a seat and was immediately lost in sleep, from which I was suddenly awakened by a sharp blow on the bottom of my feet, which, through the thin half-wornout soles, left a burning sting. Lifting my head, I saw a burly policeman who growled,
“Keep your eyes open. This Square is for wide-awake people.”
“It certainly is not for the city of Cleveland, then, in its care for its homeless,” I remarked.
Remembering I was in a “Golden Rule” city, I felt that I could safely reply to this august hint of the law, without fear of being “run in” or beaten into insensibility, as I had seen helpless men treated in other cities for such presumption. He simply gave me a half comprehending look as he passed on. Now this officer was not the Chief of Police in that city. He was simply a subordinate, and a city of six hundred thousand people requires a large police force. Notwithstanding the spirit of the Chief of Police, or his high ideal of what a police department really stands for, his good aim and end will be miscarried continually by his hirelings, until the required qualifications of a policeman are based upon intelligence, good-will, good morals, good deeds, and not upon the fact that he helped carry his ward.
I saw, however, during my short stay in this city evidences of advancement in the character of their police system, which spoke volumes for Cleveland, even though the homeless and temporarily moneyless toiler, seeking work, found no help in the many considerations for labor.
With the feeling that closing one’s eyes in the public park in Cleveland might mean life imprisonment or at least, for the second offense, a rap on the head instead of the feet, which might disqualify me for my seat in the “senate” that night, I forced myself to keep awake, and in order to do that I had to keep moving.
The agreement with myself was not to beg or steal. I was to be always “on the square.” I decided to continue to look for work. The day before, in search of work, I had climbed many stairs, entered stores, hotels, factories, even tried the City, all without success. I began to feel that perhaps I was too old, yet several of them had said, “Come again. There are always chances. We may be able to use you in a few days.”
I realized I was weak from lack of sleep and nourishment. I must eat first. Just then I overheard one starving man say to another (the park was full of “wide-awake,” starving men), “Jack, I have ten cents, let’s have a couple of beers.”
“Honest, Bill, I’d rather have a loaf of bread for my share.”