A good many
years after, I had that experience as a member of a board of twelve
trustees, each one of whom had lent his name but not his work to
the cause we were supposed to represent. When we met at the end of
that season, and heard how narrow had been the escape from calamity
due to utter lack of management, a good Methodist brother put in
words what we were each and every one of us thinking about.
"Brethren," he said, "so far as I can make out, but for the
interposition of a merciful Providence we should all be in jail,
as we deserve. Let us pray!"
I think that prayer was more than lip-service with most of us. I
know that I registered a vow that I would never again be trustee
of anything without trusteeing it in fact. And I have kept the vow.
[Illustration: _Tribune_ Police Bureau. ]
But to return to Mulberry Street. The immediate result of this
first victory of mine was a whirlwind onslaught on me, fiercer than
anything that had gone before. I expected it and met it as well as
I could, holding my own after a fashion. When, from sheer exhaustion,
they let up to see if I was still there, I paid them back with two
or three "beats" I had stored up for the occasion.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232