"Well, you see, this is an institution what believes in fasting." We both laughed and this brought forth a Mother Superior followed by a Mother Inferior, whose faces were sour enough to start a pickle factory. I felt that I had committed some unpardonable offense and abbreviated my call by taking a speedy departure. Scarcely were we seated that night in the "senate" before the old "senator" told of the square meal he had that day and of a fine place he had found in a stable where we could sleep with the comfort befitting our distinguished station. He had not seen it, but knew where it was and how to find it. So after the session adjourned, we started for our newly-found shelter. It was now late in October. The nights were unusually cold in Cleveland for that time of year. After walking what seemed an interminable distance, the warm, bright street cars passing us frequently (the fare only three cents), we finally reached our shelter. It was not as we fancied it would be,--a large, fine barn, half filled with new-mown hay. It was an old, closed-in, empty shed, with two stalls and two mangers. We entered. By striking a few matches, we could see to gather up enough of the refuse in the stalls to lie on, by placing it in the narrow mangers. The "senator" took one and I the other. He suggested that I take off my coat and place it over my head and shoulders, saying that by so doing I would be much warmer than if I kept it on. I found this to be true. So exhausted and weary had we become that we were soon lost in profound sleep, from which I awoke at three o'clock, perishing with the cold. I crept over and felt of the old man. He was alive and sleeping soundly. I slipped out and walked the streets for an hour. By the time I was thoroughly warmed the day had begun to break. Very soon I found myself again in "wide-awake" Square. I wasn't in the most amiable mood in the world. Far from it. I began to feel that I would like to stand on their city hall steps and tell the people of Cleveland what I thought of them. I slipped into that ideal little lavatory, and with the warm water, soap and clean towel, cleansed my hands and face until I felt refreshed. Then I thought of Tom Johnson, and the bitterness left my heart. I actually forgot for the moment that I was starving and fell to wondering whither God had taken him and what great work he was doing in that land to which he had gone.