and
I got hold of him and forcibly pulled him out of the wreck. His limbs
were awfully burned--cooked would be nearer the word.

[Illustration: "It was a strange courting ... there on that engine."]

The passengers crowded around, but did little good. One look was enough
for most of them. There were ten or twelve women in the cars. They came
out slowly, and stood timidly away from the hissing boilers, with one
exception. This one came at once to the injured man, sat down in the
snow, took his head in her lap, and taking a flask of liquor from her
ulster pocket, gave poor 'Lige some with a little snow.

I got the oil can and poured some oil over the burned parts to keep the
air from them; we needed bandages, and I asked the ladies if they had
anything we could use for the purpose. One young girl offered a
handkerchief and another a shawl, but before they were accepted the cool
woman holding 'Lige's head got up quickly, laying his head down tenderly
on the snow, and without a word or attempt to get out of sight, pulled
up her dress, and in a second kicked out two white skirts, and sat down
again to cool 'Lige's brow.

That woman attended 'Lige like a guardian angel until we got back to
town late that afternoon. The hospital was not yet in shape, so 'Lige
was taken to the rather dreary and homeless quarters of the hotel.

As quick as it was known that Elijah Clark was hurt, he had plenty of
friends, male and female, who came to take care of him, but the woman
who helped him live at the start came not; yet every day there were
dainty viands, wine or books left at the house for him--but pains were
taken to let no one know from whom they came.

One day a month after the accident I sat beside 'Lige's bed when he told
me that he was anticipating quite a discussion there that evening, as
the hospital committee was going to meet to decide on the rules of the
institution. "Wilcox and Gorman are set to open the house to those who
have no part in our work and no sympathy with Christian institutions,
and 'tain't right," said he. "Brother John, you can't do no good by
prolonging the life of a brazen woman bent on vice."

"Don't you think, 'Lige," said I, "that you are a little hard on an
unfortunate class of humanity, who, in nine cases out of ten, are the
victims of others' wrong-doing, and stay in the mire because no hand is
extended to help them out? Think of the woman of Samaria. It's sinners,
not saints, that need saving.