2 A.M., grateful and almost too happy to sleep.

Hazel stayed with us some time and then obtained a permanent situation
in a Christian family as their trusted domestic.

The ice, now broken, soon thawed, and night after night two or three of
us workers went to the slums, dance-halls, and dives, endeavoring to
rescue some mother's wandering boy or girl. Did we always succeed? By
no means. Often the small hours of the morning found us wending our way
homeward weary and disappointed, but never greatly discouraged. At the
least, we sowed the precious seed, claiming God's promise in Isa. 55:11
as we did so.

Many a time I have seen a girl quickly tuck away in the bosom of her
dress some little tract (we always were well supplied), perhaps bearing
these words. "Jesus the Savior loves you, and sent me to tell you so";
for not always, by any means, would the proprietors or proprietresses
permit us to converse with their victims. Sometimes we were so
fortunate as to procure a girl's lodging-house address; then we had the
gratification of calling there in the daytime and privately dealing
with her, always with more or less good results. On such visits I took
the autoharp; for singing is a great, indeed I may say, an invaluable
aid in this work.

On one occasion, when three of us were seeking the lost, making saloon
to saloon, dance-hall to dance-hall visits, we went into a place where
my attention was immediately drawn to a beautiful, modest-looking young
lady (about seventeen years old) standing alongside of a gorgeous bar
and trying to repel the advances of a pompous, sporty-looking
middle-aged man. The man behind the bar was frowning and saying to her,