And,
having said that, I have put the reporter where he belongs and
answered the question why I have never wanted executive office and
never will.
[Illustration: The Yellow Newspapers' Contribution.]
And now, in taking leave of this subject, of which I hope I may
never hear again, for it has plagued me enough and had its full
share of my life, is there not one ray of brightness that falls
athwart its gloom? Were they all bad, those dens I hated, yes,
hated, with the shame and the sorrow and hopeless surrender they
stood for? Was there not one glimpse of mercy that dwells in the
memory with redeeming touch? Yes, one. Let it stand as testimony
that on the brink of hell itself human nature is not wholly lost.
There is still the spark of His image, however overlaid by the
slum. And let it forever wipe out the score of my dog, and mine.
It was in one of the worst that I came upon a young girl, pretty,
innocent--Heaven knows how she had landed there. She hid her head
in her apron and wept bitterly with the shame of the thing. Around
her half a dozen old hags, rum-sodden and foul, camped on the stone
floor.
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