dare to describe the situation; for I know that young people are going
to read this book and I have not the least inclination to sully their
minds. Suffice it to say, I was looking upon a shameful scene of total
depravity participated in by both sexes, some of whom were little more
than in their teens.

An intoxicated girl sidled up to me. How sickening was that vile breath
in my face as she said. "Say, what yer got in that case?" It was my
auto-harp. "Sing something for her, Sister Roberts," said Sister
Kauffman, at the same time drawing the girl and me into a remote
corner. I sent up to the throne of grace a quick, silent petition, and
the answer immediately returned, for strength came. Taking my little
instrument in my arms. I commenced, with shaky voice, the song that you
will find between these pages entitled, "Her Voice." "Don't, oh! don't!
Oh! for God's sake don't!" sobbed and shrieked that poor wanderer as
she threw herself upon me and buried her head, with its tawdry covering
and matted mop of dirty hair, in my lap.

[Illustration: SHEET MUSIC

Andante

HER VOICE.

Words and Music by Mrs. Florence Roberts.

(Illustration)

1. Hark! I hear the sweet-est music Float-ing
2. Once a-gain I hear sweet voi-ces I've not