"I wouldn't have known you, Jim. I thought you were dead many years ago in stir. I heard it time and time again. I thought you were past and gone." After a short talk, I said: "Where's Sheenie Annie?" "Dead," he replied. "Mamie?" I asked. "Dead," he replied. "Lucy?" "In stir." "Swedish Emmy?" "She's married." "Any good Molls now? I'm only after getting back from stir and am not next," I said. "T'aint like old times, Jim," he said. "The Molls won't steal now. They aint got brains enough. They are not innocent. They are ignorant. All they know how to do is the badger." I went with Jack to his house, where he had an opium layout. There we found several girls and grafters, some smoking hop, some with the subtle cigarette between their lips. I was introduced to an English grafter, named Harry. He said he was bloomin' glad to see me. He was just back from the West, he said, but I thought it was the pen. He began to abuse the States, and I said: "You duffer, did you ever see such pretty girls as here? Did you ever wear a collar and tie in the old country?" He grew indignant and shouted: "'Oly Cobblestones! In this ---- country I have two hundred bucks (dollars) saved up every time, but I never spend a cent of it. 'Ow to 'Ell am I better off here? I'm only stealin' for certain mugs (policemen) and fer those 'igher up, so they can buy real estate. They enjoy their life in this country and Europe off my 'ard earned money and the likes of me. They die as respected citizens. I die in the work'us as an outcast. Don't be prating about your ---- country!" As soon as I had picked out a good mob to join I began to graft again. Two of my new pals were safe-blowers, and we did that graft, and day-work, as well as the old reliable dipping. But I wasn't much at the graft during the seven months I remained on the outside. My health continued bad, and I did not feel like "jumping out" so much as I had done formerly. I did not graft except when my funds were very low, and so, of course, contrary to my plans, I saved no fall-money. I had a girl, an opium lay-out and a furnished room, where I used to stay most of the time, smoking with pals, who, like myself, had had the keen edge of their ambition taken off. I had a strange longing for music at that time; I suppose because my nerves were weaker than they used to be. I kept a number of musical instruments in my room, and used to sing and dance to amuse my visitors. During these seven months that I spent mainly in my room, I used to reflect and philosophize a lot, partly under the influence of opium. I would moralize to my girl or to a friend, or commune with my own thoughts. I often got in a state of mind where everything seemed a joke to me. I often thought of myself as a spectator watching the play of life. I observed my visitors and their characteristics and after they had left for the evening loved to size them up in words for Lizzie.