Romance of a Missionary, IV. In the Police Court

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. M I'r BY NEPHI ANDERSON, AUTHOR OF ADDED UPON," THE CASTLE BUILDER," ETC. IV. IN THE POLICE COURT. When Elders Donaldson and Dean returned to their city lodgings, Monday afternoon, they found a note from Mrs. Loring, asking them to call as soon as possible. Elder Donaldson had a previous appointment, but as the request appeared urgent, Willard said he would go alone. He found his way down among the dirty streets, late in the afternoon. As the day was not warm, not many children were in the streets, but there were a good many bad-looking men and women reeling homeward under the influence of drink. As Willard got to the corner where he turned into the by-street, in which Mrs. Loring lived, he saw a drunken man lying on the sidewalk. A little ten-year-old girl was tugging at him, trying her best to get him upon his feet. She was barefooted and bareheaded, and, as she leaned over the man and tried with her puny strength to help him up, her disheveled hair hung over her face and became wet with the tears that were streaming from her eyes. "Dad," the little girl cried, "get ud. The cop is surely comin'— and he'll get ye, and put ye in jail. 0 dad!" she pleaded, as she tugged 'get up. Grandma's home is just around the corner — just try. Won't some of you help me?" she begged of the passers by. But no one offered to help. The people went by with a grin or a shrug, or an uninterested look. . At last one young fellow

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 271 took hold of the man's arm and raised him up. "Better try to get him in somewhere," said he, "as it will mean five shillings to the poor devil." "Right around the corner," said the girl eagerly. "0, help me take him in!" The girl looked up and down the street, fearing the approach of a policeman any minute. The drunken father was dragged a few steps, and then he fell again. Then, sure enough, up the street was seen a policeman, sauntering along. When the child caught sight of him, she frantically renewed her efforts to get her father out of sight. Willard stood looking on with peculiar feelings. His heart ached for the child, but what could he do to help? It was all so strange to him, that he could do nothing but stand in a sort of grewsome fascination and watch the proceedings . Slowly the big man in blue uniform came down the street. He, no doubt, had seen the drunken man, and he wanted to give him a chance to get away. His duty was to take drunken people off the streets to jail, but he did not go into the houses for them. If those who were trying to get this fellow off the streets would succeed, it would relieve him of an unpleasant duty; and so the policeman was very slow in his walk, and even stopped a number of times to look into shop windows. But at last he reached the group which stood around the drunken man and the girl, and then he had to do his duty. He waited a few minutes until he could hail another policeman, and then the two dragged the helpless man to the police station near by. The little girl sat down on a doorstep crying as if her heart would break. Willard still lingered. Soon the street was cleared, and the little girl was alone. The scene was such a common occurrence that it was soon over and forgotten. Presently the little girl arose and went along the street. Willard followed. She turned in at Mrs. Loring's door, and so did Willard. Mrs. Loring met them both as they entered. "0, grandma, they have taken dad to prison again," the little girl cried. "Her mother is already there," said the woman to Willard. "It is quite a common occurrence for one of them to be there, but it is not often that both are there together."

272 IMPROVEMENT ERA. "And the children?" asked the young man, realizing their condition. "What becomes of them?" "They come to me. Nora and I take care of them the best we can." She gave him a seat. "You got my note, did you?" she asked. "Yes; we have been away for a few days, having just arrived home this afternoon." "Well, you may think it strange, Mr. Dean, why I sent to see you; but the truth is, I don't hardly know myself. I don't see how you can help us, and yet I felt as though you could help in some way." The young man was at a loss to know what to do or say. Presently two more children — a boy and a girl — came in, and their grandmother sent the three out into the back yard to play until they should be called. Then Nora came home. She had heard and was angry; but when she saw Willard she restrained herself. She shook hands with him and apologized for the condition which he had found them in. "It must be humiliating to find such relatives," she said. Willard could not deny that, so he said nothing. The children were soon called in and given something to eat in the side room, and then they were told to be quiet until bed time. Willard talked with the two women for some time, comforting them as best he could, and when he arose to go, they thanked him for his visit. Would he come again?" "Certainly," said he. "When will your son and his wife be home again." "They will come before the judge in the morning, and likely they will get seven days," replied the mother. The next morning. Elders Donaldson and Dean called at the police station. They were acquainted with one of the inspectors, and he took them behind the railing in the court room and gave them seats where they could see and hear well. There were three court rooms, and cases were being tried in each. They were told that as many as three hundred cases were sometimes disposed of in a day. The hall leading into the court rooms was crowded with people who had been summoned to appear for trial or as witnesses, and among them were friends who would help to liberty those who

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 273 could not pay a fine . The crowd was indeed a study in all sorts and conditions of men and women, and especially women, for they were in the majority. The two elders spent most of the time in the room devoted to the "drunks" and other minor offenders. In the centre of the room there was a stairway leading from the prison below, and this was crowded with men and women. The judge sat on a raised platform at one end of the room; the attorneys were in front of him, below; while at the back were twenty-five or thirty uniformed policemen. These were witnesses. As a woman was called, someone from among the prisoners stepped out from the top of the stairs and walked up to an iron railing facing the judge. The charge was then read, and a policeman was called to the witness stand. After being sworn, he raised the Bible to his lips, and then as briefly as possible stated the case against the prisoner. Then the judge asked, "Well, what about that?" at which the prisoner usually muttered some excuse, or advanced a faint plea for mercy. The prisoner's former police court record was then read aloud for the information of the judge , and sentence was pronounced, which usually consisted of a fine of five or ten shillings, or in lieu thereof imprisonment for seven or fourteen days. The better class of prisoners came in at the side entrance, having been out on bail. They usually paid their fine on the spot, and departed. The proceedings seemed to be a monotonous grind to most of the people present, but not so to the two "Mormon" missionaries. Grind there certainly was — the stairs from the prison below seemed to be on an endless chain, which was propelled by some unseen machine — but all this, instead of being monotonous was intensely interesting to the two young men. The work went on rapidly. There was no time for extended remarks from anyone. Ofttimes the judge would cut short the prisoner's story by pronouncing sentence, and the condemned would be hustled from the dock down another stairway to a room below. By ones and twos and threes, they came. Five men were arranged in a row and sentenced at once. Then came an old woman. Her hair was gray. She had it smoothly combed that morning, and her dress was clean and tidy. Willard got a good

274 IMPROVEMENT ERA. look at her face. It was the face of a woman yet, though marked with years of dissipation. The young man's heart seemed to come up into his throat, and he felt that he could cry. A woman in such a condition and position, and especially an old woman, with wrinkled face, white hair and feeble limbs! She should have been sitting in an easy chair by the fire, or under the vines of the porch with her knitting, and with her grandchildren playing around her. Here was the most touchingly disharmonious scene that Willard Dean had ever witnessed. The woman stood clinging to the iron bar, looking at the judge. The charge of drunkenness was read and testified to. "Twenty-two times before," announced the official who kept the record. The judge looked at the woman for an instant and then said, ''This will not do. We shall have to place you where you cannot get drunk. We have given you a good many chances to reform, but without avail. Has the woman any relatives or friends present?" A woman came forward to the railing, and said she was her daughter. The prisoner lived with her. "Can you not keep liquor from her?" said the judge. "We have tried and tried, your honor," was the reply, "but it is no use. She has a little money of her own coming to her each month, and she drinks this up. I've tried and tried for years, vour honor, but — " with a great sob, "I've almost give up. — But, -I'd like to try again, your honor — give her one more chance. I'll do my best." There was a moment's pause in the court room, as if the hearts of all had been troubled. Then the judge said: "I think it will be best if we put her away from temptation for awhile. Six months." An officer took the old woman's arm and led her quietly away . The endless chain moved again, and two ugly, dirty young fellows stood on the top steps. They had been drunk and had been fighting. "Fourteen days," said the judge. They muttered vengeance on some one as they were hurriedly pushed away. Then came a girl, quite neatly dressed, her decorated hat conspicuous among the bare heads of the women. Her offense was more serious than being drunk, though it seemed the law placed it in the same list.

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 275 Willard looked into the face of the young girl — she couldn't have been more than eighteen — and appeared pure as he himself was, he could not understand. She seemed such a child! The judge turned to a woman who sat within easy reach. "Have you any request to make?" he asked her. "Do you know the prisoner?" "Yes, I'll take care of her until tomorrow," was the reply. It was so ordered, and the girl was told to sit down on a seat within the railing. The woman whispered something to her, but there seemed to be no change in the expressionless face. The woman was a court missionary; one of a number of men and women who worked among the slums and the criminal class, and did what deeds of kindness and help that they were able. They visited the police court each day, and had a standing there. The judge often conferred with them, and usually granted them any request for a withholding of sentence, in order that they might try their kinder hand. Next came a young woman with a babe wrapped in the shawl that covered her own shoulders. She had been found drunk in the street. She cried piteously when she stood at the bar, and did not look up at the judge. She was also handed over to the court missionary, who talked to her a few minutes, gave her a piece of money, and showed her out of the room. Following her was another young woman. She had also been intoxicated and boisterous. Her husband came forward from among the crowd of policemen, paid her fine, and took her away. "Thomas and Susan Loring,'' read the clerk, and the two stepped forward. Elder Donaldson looked at Willard, who was gazing fixedly at these, his distant kinsfolk. Sober and moderately clean as they were that morning, they were not a bad looking pair. The judge knew them, and he gave them a severe reprimand. They stood and humbly said, "Yes, your honor," and "No, your honor." This being the first time they had been there together their position was especially humiliating. They did not know that the well-dressed young man sitting a few feet away was their American relative. They were given seven days, or a fine of five shillings, and then they were sent down with the rest of the condemned.

276 IMPROVEMENl ERA. "I've learned enough of this," whispered Willard to his companion, as they went out into the hall. But their friend, the inspector, urged them to look through the prison, and as he offered to show them around, they accepted his kindness. They saw nothing peculiarly different from other jails in the stone cells and iron doors. This jail was for the transients only; the prison for long terms was out on the hills, some miles from the city. Down in the big room below the court chamber, there was a crowd of condemned prisoners. A good many of them crowded around a big iron gate which led to the open. On the outside of this gate were also a good many people. The visitors were told that those on the outside were there to pay the fines of friends within, and thus secure their liberty. Some were standing conversing between the bars, others of the prisoners were eagerly looking to see if there were any helping friends without, while others knowing that there was no such help for them, walked moodily around the big room, or sat on the seats in the farthest corners. In one of the small cells, which the inspector said was for boys, the visitors read, among many odd scribblings on the walls, this iiiscription : "Seven days for pinching a duck." When they had made the round of the building, court was over, and the officers were accepting fines and releasing prisoners at the big gate. As they stood watching the proceedings, Willard saw Nora Loring in the crowd outside. The two elders withdrew, so that they could see, but not be seen. Nora stood with head bowed quietly waiting. When her turn came, she paid the money, ten shillings, and her brother and sister were free again. As far as the two elders could see or hear, Nora said not a word to them. They went their way, and she went hers. "Ten shillings is a lot of money for Nora to pay," said Willard to his companion. "Think what labor, what sacrifice those ten shillings represent. Do those two released prisoners appreciate it?" But the other could not answer. They took the car for home, but rode by their lodgings out into the park.

ROMANCE OF A MISSIONARY. 277 "I want a change," said Willard. It was early afternoon ; and a beautiful day. The two young men strolled around for a short time, and then sat down on a bench by the fountain. There is only a penny ride between the two extremes of life in an English city. The slums are at one end, with their narrow, dirty streets, and ugly, dirty houses; with their ugly, dirty people ; with their poverty and their degradation. The park is at the other end of the penny ride, with its beautiful trees and flowers and walks ; with its water and swans and pleasure boats ; with its quiet and pure, balmy air; with its neatly dressed, pretty children playing on the grass; with its display of wealth and comfort and leisure : with its culture and refinement.

278 IMPROVEMENT ERA. The English parks are in very deed oases in the desert, and the two "Mormon" elders could breathe freely again, as they sat and drank in the beauty of sight and sound around them. "It's like coming from hell to heaven," said Willard. (to be continued.)