The life story of a man whose successive experiences as a boy in Ireland, a seaman on a British man-of-war, a Bowery waif, a labor leader, and a Socialist propagandist, make up an unusual biography even for this land of kaleidoscopic changes.
ed over and over again the two lines of the hymn, sometimes breaking the continuity in giving way to tears.
The second revelation came to me the following morning. I realized the condition of my body. I was in rags and dirty. I shook my mother out of her slumber and begged her to help me sew up the rents in my clothes. I had no shoes, but I carefully washed my feet, combed my tousled, unkempt hair, and took great pains in the washing of my face. All of this was a mystery to my mother. She wanted to know what had happened to me, and a very unusual thing ended the preparations for the day. My mother said I looked "purty," and kissed me as I went out of the door.
As I walked up the street that morning, I shared my joy with the first living thing I met--the saloon-keeper's old dog, Rover. I shook his paw and said, "Morrow, Rover." Everything looked beautiful. The world was full of joy. I was perfectly sure that the birds were sharing it, for they sang that morning as I had never heard them sing befo