An aged father and mother came, dressed in their best clothes, and
very timid.

"We have a great sorrow, Doctor," the father began tremulously.
"We are strangers in New York. We hate to trouble you. But we heard
you preach, and you seemed to get so close to our hearts we felt
we had known you all our lives."

He paused and the mother began to brush the tears from her eyes.

"Our boy is a medical student here. We were proud of him--all we
had dreamed and never seen, all we had hoped to be and never been
in life, we expected to see in him. We skimped and saved and gave
him an education. Sometimes we didn't have much to eat at home,
but we didn't care. Did we, Ma?"

The mother shook her head.

"Then we mortgaged the farm and sent him here to study three years
and be a great doctor."

He paused, bent low and covered his face with his hands.

"And now, sir, he's taken to drink, and they tell us at the college
he won't get his diploma! And we thought, after we heard you, maybe
you could see him, get hold of him, and help us save him. He's all
we've got. The rest are dead."

Gordon looked away and his lips quivered.