As the morning hours draw nigh blear-eyed men and women in all stages of intoxication, creep to their holes to sleep away the day for a renewal of their orgies when darkness again falls. In these all night saloons robberies and burglaries are planned, and hold-ups arranged for. To them young girls are enticed when homeward bound from summer gardens and midwinter balls. Plans are laid for their ruin through drink, and the excitement of an experience new to them, which hide from their view all danger signals. Women are beaten and stabbed in them. Here young men begin their careers of dissipation, of lechery, and, perhaps, of crime, amid surroundings so contrary to the examples of home life, that before they are aware of it, they have become hopelessly enamored of what is termed a sporting life. The flippantly spoken word provokes a heated reply, a jealous woman, surcharged with drink, precipitates a squabble that swells into a free fight, a free fight brings an indiscriminate firing of revolvers, and the consequent death--the murder--of some of the rioters follows. Then, and not until then, do the police raid the place. For a few weeks it is kept under the ban, but gradually the law's grip is relaxed, signs of the old life revive, and soon the same scenes made more joyous and boisterous at the "new opening" are again enacted, to run the same course until another felony is committed, and another temporary closing of the doors enforced. That the all night saloon where such depravity is permitted to hold sway is a menace to the peace, the sobriety, and the safety of the community, is a self evident proposition. A minister in one of his sermons said, "The police wink when you call their attention to the fact that hundreds of saloons are running wide open all night. It is after midnight that the majority of the crimes are committed, and yet these places are allowed to run after hours, and have the protection of the police." The beardless boy and the habitual drunkard are, alike, supplied with drink without question. The former is flattered by being called "a dead game sport," and the latter tickled with the oft-bestowed title of "old sport." Many of these notorious dens are located in the midst of a forest of houses of ill fame. The depraved inmates of these houses, partly clad, are the most indecent visitors to the all night saloons. Perched upon the bar, or peering out from the private wine rooms, they shout their infamous language at the visitors, with invitations to indulgence in the most bestial of practices.