“The example of my associates, bad as it was, could not be compared with that set for me by some of the two-legged patrons of the place. Pete may have been right about their social position, but of all the vulgar, profane, beastly fellows I ever saw, the young bloods who frequented that bar were the worst. But my prejudices were soon overcome, and I came to believe that such qualities were absolutely essential to fellowship in the smart set of a great city. And so I continued in my evil ways, my life being one continual round of hilarious and intemperate pleasure. “The outcome was precisely what was to have been expected. I fell seriously ill, and had it not been for a splendid constitution derived from my early life in the country, I most certainly would have died. I finally became convalescent and was speculating on how soon I would likely be able to get to business again, when an unlooked for complication set in. I caught the mange, and in a few weeks was a perfect fright. My hide looked as if it had been plucked out in spots. It was not long before some of the patrons of the place noticed my condition and commented sarcastically upon it to my employer. One man said I ought to go to the Springs and boil out, whatever that may mean. “I received but little consolation from Pete and Foxy; indeed, they were quite shy of me after my skin trouble developed, and, as you might suppose, my life was most miserable. “But my troubles had only begun. A short time after this I overheard my employer conversing with a rough-looking man, who used to hang about the place doing odd jobs for drinks. To my consternation, the boss was making arrangements with that infamous rowdy to take my life that very night! I listened to the foul plot with my heart in my mouth. I nearly fainted, so great was my horror and agitation. What to do I hardly knew at first. I no longer had confidence in Pete and Foxy, and would not ask their advice. I finally determined to try to make my escape before the fatal moment should arrive. “Evening came, and with it my opportunity to escape. Just at dusk, before the gas was lighted, I sneaked out of the alley door between the heels of a customer, and arriving in the open air, ran as fast as my trembling legs could carry me until I reached a part of the city far distant from the hotel where my would-be assassins were probably even then searching for their intended victim. “For some weeks after my escape, I led a paw-to-mouth existence. Half-starved, despondent, set upon by strange dogs, stoned by cruel vicious boys--I often regretted that I had not permitted my life to be taken by that ruffian at the hotel. He would have drowned me, most likely, and death by drowning would have been far pleasanter than the life I subsequently led. You may wonder why I did not commit suicide, but frankly, I hadn’t courage enough for that. Some folks say that only cowards commit suicide, but don’t you ever believe it.