"Indeed, I would," I replied.
Well, to this day I do not wonder at their failure to recognize her. In that picture she looked like a dirty, emaciated, old vagabond. This is the best I can do in the way of description, dear reader. I wish I had a copy of her "Before and After" to put in this book. You would be sure to say, "Mother Roberts did not exaggerate one iota." If any of you know Mrs. Kincaid, go to her and ask her whether she won't please show it to you….
We were soon on the street-car, and then downtown, where I quickly transacted my business, after which I was once more at Callie's disposal.
I followed her to a place on the south of Market Street, to a building which resembled a deserted, tumble-down stable or blacksmith's shop plastered with old hand-bills and posters. There were some dirty old window-frames in the second story, but I do not believe there was one whole pane of glass left.
"This is the place, Mother Roberts," said Callie.
"Surely no human beings dwell in such a terrible place as this,
Callie," I replied.
"You come with me and see for yourself," she rejoined. "Don't you remember what I told you? I said I would take you to a place you didn't dream existed. This is the one."
Sure enough. And this was once her home! She opened a disreputable door, and we climbed a dirty and fearfully rickety stairway; next we groped our way along a dark passage. "Mind, there's a broken board! Look out you don't break your ankle," said Callie. She spoke none too soon. I narrowly escaped an accident. Now we turned a corner and got a little better light, this disclosing another old partly-broken-down stairway with nearly all the balustrade gone. Up these we climbed, hugging, as we did so, the filthy wall, for safety. On reaching the top she rapped gently an a cracked door, but received no answer. She rapped louder. Still no answer. Presently some one called from somewhere below. Then she rapped still louder. This time a man's voice inquired, "Who's there?" There was the sound of shuffling footsteps, and then the door opened, disclosing two women, one young, one old, and three men, all young, but all old-looking, cadaverous, starved, ragged, filthy, and indescribably loathsome. Furthermore, the odor issuing through that open doorway was almost intolerable.
Callie knew all, with the exception of the young girl, and called each by name; but, as usual, they did not recognize her, and, in the same manner as heretofore described, had to be convinced, whilst she again rehearsed her wonderful experience. Presently she said: "I'm going to hunt up some of the others, and I'm going to ask this lady to sing for you while I am gone. She's brought her autoharp with her."
[Illustration: SHEET MUSIC