Fifteen Years with the Outcast | Page 5

Mrs Florence Roberts
of being in the best of
company, though these guardians and companions were visible only to
the eye of faith (Psa. 91:10-12).

That day I saw tears fall, and heard experiences of which I had hitherto
had scarcely any conception.
Touched by a loving hand, wakened by kindness, Chords that were
broken will vibrate once more.
Soon after this the first little rescue home for girls in Sacramento was
started by some consecrated young people. It was located on Second
Street near O. I did not have the pleasure of attending the opening of
this "shelter," because of a direct call to service about this time with
some traveling evangelists. I assisted them by giving out the "good
news" in song.
While I was traveling northward with these evangelists, there came into
my possession, in answer to prayer, my treasured, God-given little
autoharp, No. 1. My second was at one time the property of a now
pardoned State prisoner--his companion in his lonely hours when
locked in his cell.
"Where were your husband and your son all this time?" you inquire.
The former was away prospecting--his favorite occupation. The latter,
because of his love for the water and his desire to see other countries,
was an employee on an ocean-steamer.
MY SPIRITUAL MOTHER.
On Sept. 1, 1902, there passed into eternal rest one of the oldest
members of the First Methodist Episcopal church of San Francisco,
Mrs. Salemma Williams.
For more than twenty years this dear sainted friend, though I knew it
not, daily prayed and believed for my conversion. Five years before she
was made aware of the fact, her prayer had been answered. Her joy,
when one day I called upon her to impart the welcome news, knew no
bounds, and until she passed away we spent many happy days in each
other's company. A few hours before she went home, she gave her
children and me her parting blessings. The precious prayer of this dying
saint as she held her aged hands on my head comforts, sustains, and

encourages me now, even as it did then, and I believe that it ever will.
HER BLESSING.
"Lord, I thank thee for answered prayer. Make this, thy child,
wonderful for thee, Lord, wonderful for thee! for Jesus' sake. Amen."
Though she spoke with great difficulty, yet every word was distinctly
audible. About two hours later she sang (with me) the following lines
as she passed into eternal rest:
Oh! if there's only one song--I can sing When in his beauty I see the
great King, This shall my song in eternity be: Oh, what a wonder that
Jesus loves me! I am so glad that Jesus loves me! Jesus loves even me.
SUMMARY.
Would that it were in my power to relate better, in "Fifteen Years with
the Outcast," the few incidents of the many which have come under my
personal observation. The real names of the principals of the stories are
withheld, but not so the names of personal friends.
Dear readers, I am well aware that this book, judged from a literary
point of view, would be regarded as a failure; but I make no pretensions
as a writer, nor do I entertain any aspirations for literary fame. My sole
object in endeavoring to present faithfully a few experiences of my
brief years of service for the Master is to warn many who are in danger.
Interspersed between these covers are a few songs, the words of which,
with scarcely an exception, were written in the night, and, for the most
part, were culled from incidents of personal observation and experience.
Much valuable assistance has been rendered by a dear friend in the
transcribing and arranging of the music.
For those of my readers who do not yet know the dear Lord as their
personal Savior and Redeemer, my sincere prayer is, May they while
perusing these pages catch a glimpse of Him. May they, by faith, "wash
and be made clean," determining, God helping, to shun forever all evil
and evil companions. The sinful life never pays.

In order to make this book suitable for young people to read, much
concerning rescue work has been withheld. Parents will readily
understand why and will appreciate the omission. Doubtless they will
have little if any trouble in reading between the lines. God grant them
love and wisdom to interpret to their questioning boys and girls, and
may countless blessings from the Shepherd of our souls attend all into
whose hands this book may chance to come.
Yours, in precious service for Him,
(Mrs.) Florence Roberts.
P. S. Since the above was written, I had the occasion to visit one of our
California State prisons (San Quentin). I went at the urgent request of a
young man whom the officials recommended for
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