me, and in 1890 entered my new parish--the
Bowery.

CHAPTER VII

FISHING FOR MEN ON THE BOWERY

The Bowery is one of the most unique thoroughfares of the world. The
history of the cheap lodging houses, to which I was commissioned to
carry the gospel, is one of the most interesting phases of the
Bowery's history. Ex-inspector Thomas Byrnes has described the lodging
house of the Bowery as "a breeding place of crime." He probably did
not know that the cheap lodging house had its origin in a
philanthropic effort. It was in 1872, somewhere on the edge of a
financial panic, that the first lodging house of this type was
organized by two missionaries--Rev. Dr. A.F. Shauffler and the Rev.
John Dooley. The Young Men's Christian Association of the Bowery found
a lot of young men attending its meetings who were homeless, and their
endeavour to solve this problem resulted in the fitting up of a large
dormitory on Spring Street. Somebody--Ex-inspector Byrnes says a Mr.
Howe--saw a business opportunity in the philanthropy and copied the
dormitory.

There were from sixty to seventy of them on the Bowery when I began my
work. These I visited every day of the week. There was a glamour and
a fascination about it in the night-time that held me in its grip as
tightly as it did others. What a study were the faces--many of them
pale, haggard; many of them painted! How sickly they looked under the
white glare of the arc lights that fizzled and sputtered overhead!
Many of its shops have been "selling out below cost," for over twenty
years.

I did not confine myself to the Bowery, but went to the small side
streets around Chatham Square. They were also filled with cheap
lodging houses. The lowest of these were called "bunk houses." Only
one of the bunk houses remains. That is situated at No. 9 Mulberry
Street. It is there to-day, little altered from the day I first
entered it over twenty years ago. The price for lodging ranges from
seven to fifteen cents, but fifteen cents was the more usual price.

My headquarters at first was the City Mission Church on Broome Street,
called "The Broome Street Tabernacle," and to it I led thousands of
weary feet. The minister at that time was the Rev. C.H. Tyndall, a
splendid man with a modern mind; but I filled his tabernacle so full
of the "Weary Willies of the Bowery" that Mr. Tyndall revolted, and as
I look back at the circumstance now, he was fully justified in his
revolt. Mr. Tyndall was