knelt. She prayed--oh! how she prayed! and some of the women wet the
boards with their tears whilst they, too, called upon Callie's Savior
for pardon and mercy. How I wish we might have stayed there the
remainder of the day! but we could not, for my time was limited.
Feelingly and reluctantly we said our "farewells," promising to come at
some future time if God so willed.

Before we left, they all lovingly inquired for Lucy, sending her many
kind messages of love and remembrance.

When we returned to Mrs. Kincaid's quarters, she inquired if I should
like to see a photo of Callie as she formerly looked?

"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