rap the warmest flannels around those who
are the most chilled and battered. The vicious poor have suffered
two awful wrecks, the wreck of the body, and the wreck of the soul; a
wreck for time and a wreck for eternity.

Go up that alley! Open the door. It is not locked. They have nothing
to lose. No burglar would want anything that is there. There is only a
broken chair set against the door. Strike a match and look around you.
Beastliness and rags! A shock of hair hanging over the scarred visage.
Eyes glaring upon you. Offer no insult. Be careful what you say. Your
life is not worth much in such a place. See that red mark on the wall.
That is the mark of a murderer's hand. From the corner a wild face
starts out of the straw and moves toward you, just as your light goes
out.

Strike another match. Here is a little babe. It does not laugh. It
never will laugh. A sea-flower flung on an awfully barren beach: O
that the Shepherd would fold that lamb! Wrap your shawl about you,
for the January wind sweeps in. Strike another match. The face of that
young woman is bruised and gashed now, but a mother once gazed upon it
in ecstasy of fondness. Awful stare of two eyes that seem looking up
from the bottom of woe. Stand back. No hope has dawned on that soul
for years. Hope never will dawn upon it. Utter no scorn. The match has
gone out. Light it not again, for it would seem to be a mockery.

Pass out! Pass on! Know that there are thousands of such abodes in our
cities. An awful, gloomy, and overwhelming picture is the city in the
third watch.

After midnight the crime of the city does its chief work. At eight
and a half o'clock in the evening the criminals of the city are at
leisure. They are mostly in the drinking saloons. It needs courage to
do what they propose to do. Rum makes men reckless. They are getting
their brain and hand just right. Toward midnight they go to their
garrets. They gather their tools. Soon after the third watch they
stalk forth, silently, looking out for the police, through the alleys
to their appointed work. This is a burglar; and the door-lock will fly
open at the touch of the false keys. That is an incendiary; and before
morning there will be a light on the sky, and a cry of "Fire! Fire!"
That is an assassin; and a lifeless body will be found to-morrow in
some of the vacant lots.

During all the day there are hundreds of villains to be found lounging
about, a part of the time asleep, apart of the t