n't fit to read the Holy Book in,
but if yez w'u'dn't mind reading through the window, I'll take the
rags out."

So she took the bundle out of the broken pane, and Dowling bent over
and read his chapter.

When the Rev. John Hopkins Dennison took charge of the old Church of
Sea and Land, he established a sort of latter-day monastery in the old
square tower, and there Brother Dowling had a cell, where he lived
and worked among the poor for many years.

In an escapade with two other soldiers in the Sepoy rebellion, Dowling
had looted the palace of a raja. In the act of burying several canes
filled with diamonds, one of the three was shot dead. Dowling and the
other escaped. One day on the Bowery, forty years afterward, a man
laid his hand on Dowling's shoulder and asked him what he did with the
loot. It was the other man.

"What did _you_ do with it?" Dowling asked. Each had lived in the
belief that the other had got away with it.

The tinker-preacher was very much stirred up over this. He wrote
at once to the governor-general of India, told the whole story,
and offered to come out and locate the stolen booty. Money was
appropriated to pay his passage, but the old man was going on another
journey. He wrote a full description of the place and transaction,
and then lay down in the tower of the old church and died.

_"Doc," our Volunteer Organist_

"Say, Bub," said Gar, the bouncer, to me one day, "what ungodly hour
of the mornin' d'ye git up?"

"At the godly hour of necessity," I replied.

"Wal, I hev a pal I want ter interjooce to ye at six."

I met the bouncer and his "pal" at the corner of Broome Street and the
Bowery next morning at the appointed hour.

"Dat's Doc!" said Gar, as he clapped his hand on his friend's head.

His friend bowed low and in faultless English said: "I am more than
pleased to meet you."

"I can give ye a pointer on Doc," the big fellow continued. "If ye tuk
a peaner t' th' top av a mountain an' let her go down the side sorter
ez she pleases, 'e cud pick up the remains an' put thim together so's
ye w'u'dn't know they'd been apart. Yes, sir; that's no song an'
dance, an' 'e c'u'd play any chune iver invented on it."

[Illustration: "I NOTICED A PROFILE SILHOUETTED AGAINST THE WINDOW"]

"Doc" laughed and made some explanations. They had a wheezy old organ
in Halloran's dive, and Doc kept it in repair and played occasionally
for them. Doc had a Rip Van Winkle look. His hair hung do