About a week after the tea he paid a midnight visit to the den, and as he entered the landlord commanded silence in the following words: "I know this 'ere gent, and if you doesn't shut up while he's here, I'll have you out with a shake and a kick. You bad manner'd brutes, to keep your hats on when your betters comes in." This was sufficient to secure silence, while tracts were delivered with scriptural remarks. It was thought well that the visits should be short until influence was obtained with the customers. The Missionary therefore left, after fixing attention upon the word _Saviour_ and its sweet meaning. He then pinned his address card upon the wall, and said, "Let this remain here. I have told you how to obtain pardon from Almighty God; but as it may be difficult for some of you to leave lives of sin, I shall be glad to be the friend of any who are truly penitent. Some of you might be glad of some one to plead with your relations, and I might assist others into institutions of mercy." [Illustration: _See p. 206._] In answer to this invitation several outcasts called during the week upon the "reformatory man," as they pleased to style him, and were rescued. Early one morning, the keeper of the night-house came himself, leading by the hand a little girl without shoes or stockings. She was offensively dirty, with dishevelled hair, her frock of rags being pinned round her. He fairly dragged her in at the door, and said, "This 'ere gal, sir, has been about the streets for months, as she's a Irish cockney, as we calls 'em. Her mother is dead, and her father has bolted; and she sleeps under stairs where the doors are open, and under the arches with them that's got no homes; and she gits into my shop for bits of grub; and a woman, who is a bad lot, wants to take her, and we had a row, and I have bringed her to you,--and here she is." Yes; there the poor child stood, an object to be shuddered at and avoided; but a fit object for Christian compassion. To provide for her was a difficulty, as the Missionary had burdened so many Institutions with cases that he scarcely knew where to apply. After conferring with his wife, it was arranged that she should be cleaned in the back kitchen, and dressed in one of their children's old clothes, while he went in search of a home for her. After hours of toil, all the success he met with was a promise from the manager of a crowded home to receive her at the end of three days, when an inmate was to leave. There was, therefore, no help but to keep the child for that time.