“The horror of my transition from the easy life at the hotel to that of a homeless, despised wanderer, was something of which you can have no conception, my dear Fido, and I sincerely hope you may never pass through so terrible an experience as I had at that time and have been having since I--but I am getting ahead of my story. “I don’t know how I lived through the terrible ordeal of starvation and abuse to which I was subjected. I was inexperienced and very sensitive to hardships. Nothing could disturb me now, but then--ah me! How tender is youth! “After some weeks of terrible privation and physical torture, I began to believe that the fates were against me, when the tide of my affairs unexpectedly turned. “I had crawled into an open basement window in the rear of a modest and unpretentious-looking house over on Adams Street one stormy night, hoping to find something to satisfy my terrible hunger. To my despair, everything was under lock and key. Noticing a number of rat holes about, I determined to make an attempt to capture a rodent or two for my supper, and posted myself at the hole that looked most promising. “Game was scarce; in my then weakened state my vigil was too fatiguing and I fell asleep at my post. When I finally awoke I was horrified to find myself in the hands of a woman! “You better believe I was frightened! Why, my dear Fido, I never had such a scare in my life. But fortunately I had no cause for alarm; my captor--who proved to be the cook--was most kind to me. She took me up stairs to the kitchen and gave me a good, substantial meal and a warm, soft bed. For the first time in many weeks I passed a comfortable night, free from the pangs of hunger and unrest. “When morning came, I of course supposed I would be told to go. To my delight I was not only given a sumptuous breakfast, but nothing was said about my departure, and I began to hope that I might be able to secure a permanent position with the family. “After I had finished my breakfast, the cook disappeared for a few moments. She soon returned accompanied by two children, whom she called Johnny and Ethel. They spoke to me kindly, and Ethel said: “‘Oh, Johnny, let’s ask mamma if we can’t keep the poor thing!’ “‘Let’s do,’ cried Johnny, delightedly, ‘and I’ll ask papa to give us some liniment for him, too, he looks just like he was havin’ the measles.’ “‘Pshaw! me darlints,’ said the cook, ‘d’ye shpose yer pa’ll be afther docthorin’ cats?’ “‘Of course he will,’ replied Ethel, ‘didn’t he fix Willie Thompson’s dog when he broke his leg?’ “Sure enough, my dear Fido, the children’s papa was a doctor, and he soon cured my skin trouble. After I was myself again, there was no longer any danger of being asked to leave, for the children became very fond of me; even the baby seemed to take a great fancy to me.