tention, but the tramp volunteered the information that he
answered to the name of Jim, and promised to report at the rectory in
the evening and give me a chance to try my hand on him.

"In the evening, then, I sat and waited, half fearing that he had
changed his mind and would not come. But just as the first pale stars
began to twinkle in the sky Jim pushed open the gate and I went to meet
him with both hands extended in warmest welcome. He gave me his left
hand, and for the first time I noticed that the right was
gone--amputated at the wrist. Jim saw my glance of shocked pity and
smiled as he said calmly:

"'It was the drink did it, Father--the hand and this scar on my face.
I'd been hitting it up pretty lively and didn't realize where I was
walking. The track wasn't wide enough for me and the train. One of us
had to get off, and as the engine was the stronger of the two--well, you
see the result before you.'

"'How long have you been tramping, Jim?' I asked.

"'More years than I care to think of now, Father. The drink again. In
fact, it's been the drink at every turn; it's ruined my life, made a
complete fool of me. But let's get down to business; only, you'll have
to help me out, it's so long since I went to confession I've almost
forgotten how.'

"'Come into the house or the confessional in the church,' I suggested.

"'The house or the confessional in the church? No, thank you, Father. My
little friends up yonder, those pretty, sparkling stars, my only
companions on many a lonely night, have been the witnesses of my
degradation. Let them now behold my restoration to the favor of the God
whom I've offended.'

"Strange words, those, from a tramp, and I marveled at them. Without
more ado we 'got down to business,' and it was nearly two hours later
when we parted at the gate. In answer to a question of mine, Jim replied
whimsically:

"'Where do I live while I'm working on this job? Well, you see, Father,
I am rather particular with regard to my lodgings, and as there is
nothing around here that quite suits me, I just crawl under the engine
and sleep there.'

"'But when it rains, Jim?'

"'Well, it just rains, that's all.'

"The next morning Jim attended my Mass and received Holy Communion, and
every morning after that when I entered the church to offer up the Holy
Sacrifice the first person I would see would be my one-armed tramp
kneeling in a far corner, his rosary slipping through his fingers. The
rosar