Success

olice court. It was the regular morning company of drunks and disorderlies. Some were old and hardened; others hung their beads in shame. Just as the momentary disorder attending the bringing in of the prisoners quieted down, a strange thing happened. A strong, clear voice from below began singing: Last night I lay a-sleeping, There came a dream so fair. Last night! It had been for them all a nightmare or a drunken stupor. The song was such a contrast to the horrible fact that no one could fail of a sudden shock at the thought the song suggested. I stood in old Jerusalem, Beside the Temple there, the song went on. The judge had paused. He made a quiet inquiry. A former member of a famous opera company known all over the country was awaiting trial for forgery. It was he who was singing in his cell. Meantime the song went on, and every man in the line showed emotion. One or two dropped on their knees; one boy at the end of the line, after a desperate effort at self-control, leaned against the wall, buried his face against his folded arms, and sobbed, Oh, mother, mother. 11 The sobs, cutting to the very heart the men who heard, and the song, still welling its way through the courtroom, blended in the hush. At length one man protested. Judge, said he, have we got to submit to this? We're here to take our punishment, but this - He, too, began to sob. A trifling kindness here and there, Is but a simple, small affair; Yet if your life has sown this free, Wide shall your happy harvest be. It was impossible to proceed with the business of the court; yet the court gave no order to stop the song. The police sergeant, after an effort to keep the men in line, stepped back and waited with the rest. The song moved on to its climax: Jerusalem, Jerusalem! Sing, for the night is o'er! Hosanna, in the highest! Hosanna, for evermore! In an ecstasy of melody the last words rang out, and then there was silence. The judge looked into the faces of the men before him. There was not one who was not touched by the song; not one in whom some better impulse was not stirred. He did not call the cases singly - a kind word of advice, and he dismissed them all. No man was fined or sentenced to the workhouse that morning. The song had done more good than p