(3005)
Thirty men, red-eyed and disheveled, lined up before a judge of the San Francisco police court, says The Youth’s Companion. It was the regular morning company of “drunks and disorderlies.” Some were old and hardened, others hung their heads in shame. Just as the momentary disorder attending the bringing in of the prisoners quieted down, a strange thing happened. A strong, clear voice from below began singing:
“Last night I lay a-sleeping,
There came a dream so fair.”
Last night! It had been for them all a nightmare or a drunken stupor. The song was such a contrast to the horrible fact that no one could fail of the sudden shock at the thought the song suggested.
“I stood in old Jerusalem,
Beside the temple there.”
The song went on. The judge had paused. He made a quiet inquiry. A former member of a famous opera company, known all over the country, was awaiting trial for forgery. It was he who was singing in his cell.
Meantime the song went on, and every man in the line showed emotion. One or two dropt on their knees. One boy at the end of the line, after a desperate effort at self-control, leaned against the wall, buried his face in his folded arms, and sobbed, “O mother, mother.”