“GOING UP TO SEE ‘Sloppy Weather’?” It was the Chief speaking.
“Yes,” said the Sheriff’s wife, “but tell me, Chief, why do you call any woman ‘Sloppy Weather’?”
“Well, if you had picked her up out of the gutter as often as I have, that’s what you’d call her—but go ahead, you’ll go in to see her anyway.”
A young woman, about twenty years of age, sat in her cell. Brought up in a den of iniquity from infancy, she knew only the blackest side of life. Her mother was proprietress of the place. It was a strange experience to have anyone take an interest in her. Kind words and kind acts from the matron soon won her confidence. A tray of toast and tea specially prepared for her awakened the dormant sensibilities of her depraved nature, and there were soon floods of tears as she poured out her sordid story on the shoulder of her new friend.
“Will you go to a Home,” asked the matron, “where you can live a new life and be away from this awful life of sin and shame?”
“I would gladly go,” she replied, “but who will receive me?”
“There is such a Home in Pittsburgh, and there you can be away from all these evil associations, and they will help you. We will go to your ‘home’ and get your clothing, and you can bid them goodbye. If they refuse to let you go, you can tell them the sheriff’s wife is at the door, and she will bring some one to the house who will see that you go.”
In a short time she came out with her possessions, but not without the threat that the authorities of the law were ready to effect her deliverance.
“She rode with me,” related Mrs. Evans, “in the rig that we used in those days, drawn by ‘White Billy’.” Laura immediately associated ‘Billy’ with her new life and said, “White Billy will help me into a white life.”
Before she left for Pittsburgh the liberating power of the gospel had been put before her, and shortly after her admission there the blessed work was completed in her soul.
The new matron said that Laura Cabel was the most industrious and conscientious girl that ever entered the Home. If it had been possible, she would have done all the work of the establishment. Here it was that she learned more fully of the love of Him who came into the world to save sinners. It was here that she was drawn into that fold where blacker sheep than she had been carried on the shoulders of the Good Shepherd.
But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed through,
Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert He heard its cry,
Weak and helpless, and ready to die.
And all through the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a cry to the gate of Heaven,
‘Rejoice! I have found My sheep!’
And the angels echoed around the Throne,
‘Rejoice! for the Lord brings back His own’!”
A Home was eventually opened in Erie, Pennsylvania, and Laura Cabel was among its first inmates. But her past life had sown fatal seeds in her mortal frame: she was a victim of tuberculosis.
As long as she was able, she visited her friend, Mrs. Evans, and made occasional visits to the Erie County Jail. Once as they ascended the long steps together, she said: “The first time I walked up here I was a prisoner, body and soul. Now I am free, body and soul.”
On another visit she talked with an Irish woman—one of the “habituals.” often brought in on account of drunkenness.
“It’s not for the likes of me,” would be her reply to Laura’s earnest entreaties to come to the Savior.
“But, Bridget,” she urged, “whether young or old, or however sinful we may be, He will not turn us away.”
Ah, that’s it! “I will in no wise cast out,”
“Yes, come in all your sin!
Through Jesus’ blood the vile may enter in,
May come to God, by perfect grace thus led,
Assured that for themselves that blood was shed.”
When finally the dread disease had run its course and Laura knew that the end was near, with superhuman strength she raised herself up in bed, and distinctly said: “Nothing but the blood of Jesus.” Sinking back to her pillow she was released from earth’s sorrows, pangs and tears to dwell in the House of the Lord forever.
Clothed in pure white, surrounded by wreaths of white flowers and resting in a white casket, the body of Laura Cabel was laid in the tomb until that glad morning when the shadows flee away; that morning which shall surely dawn without a cloud-fleck in the sky.
“And as we gazed for the last time here upon the sweet face of one whom the loving Savior had wooed and drawn with the cords of His eternal love,” continued Mrs. Evans, “we could only exclaim, ‘What hath God wrought'!” (Num. 23:23).
“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool!” (Isa. 1:18).
Put it to yourself, what if this night God should require your soul of you and you had not “come"? What if the summons finds you still far off, when the precious blood was ready by which you might have been made nigh? You do not know what a day may bring forth (Prov. 27:1). There are plenty of things besides immediate death which may just as effectually prevent your ever coming at all if you do not come now. This may be your last free hour for coming. Tomorrow the call may seem rather less urgent, and the “other things entering in” may deaden it, and the grieved Spirit may withdraw and cease to give you even your present inclination to listen to it, and so you may drift on and on, farther and farther from the haven of safety (into which you may enter now if you will) till it is out of sight on the horizon. And then it may be too late to turn the helm, and the current may be too strong; and when the storm of mortal illness at last comes, you may find that you are too weak mentally or physically to rouse yourself, even to hear, much less to come. What can one do when fever and exhaustion are triumphing over mind and body? Do not risk it. Come now!