“‘Yes, sir!’ says he. ‘There lies the cause of my roon! And such a fiddlin’, triflin’ stuff to wreck a man!’ He got some of his breath back. ‘You orter ask “How?”’ says he, ‘and I reply, “By contractin’ the habit”’--‘Not of gnawin’ it’--he adds hasty, ‘but steppin’ on it. Here was I sittin’ on sunset clouds and floatin’ over beautiful scenery, till there comes a cold blast of the winds of chance, and from that moment my path in life was strewed with the discard from rosy lips. For two solid weeks I did nothin’ but scuff my feet or flag a shine-stand to get rid of the day’s gatherin’ of gum. Them Eye-talians used to grin in a way that made me want an open season on furriners, as I cantered up to ’em, smicky-smacky, smicky-smacky, trailin’ soft gray hairs behind me like a retired minister’s whiskers. “‘They’d look up at the sky and make dago remarks, whilst they curried my feet with a brick, till the cold sweat of mortification melted my b’iled collar. And once a flap-doodle actor goat, with a red, white and blue hatband, got gay and told me not to use such naughty words about these tributes from the mouth of beauty. I swatted the air where he’d been when I started to hit him an’ he took me by most of my trousers and turned me ten somersaults. How was I to know he was Honest Mike, the Deck Hand, who chucked the villain over Brooklyn Bridge every night and Saturday matinée? “‘Well, I’ll cut it short. No matter where I fled, the fiend pursued me. I went to the opery one night, to get my frazzled nerves soothed by the champion yelpers of the pack. For two solid hours I lived untroubled, not even worried by the show, as I couldn’t understand a word of it and nobuddy on the stage had complaints too deep to sing about; but comin’ out, me enemy waited on the edge of a step for me and I landed astride of a stout lady’s neck, beggin’ her pardon and fightin’ a half-dozen men for five minutes. When I explained, even the stout lady laughed. “‘The boss at my joint cussed himself into asthma, wondering what the sticky stuff, tracked all over his new seven-dollar-a-yard carpet, was. “‘But I ain’t goin’ to weary you with trifles. One day the boss tipped me off that there was a bunch of alum-eyes due that evenin’; he said they was fellers that had took the college course, but recovered, and that the bowlegged elephant song and dance that extracted money from our regulars would be looked upon with reproach by the new-comers. I got nervous. Playin’ ag’in’ them little first-crow roosters had been bad practice. I soaked my hands in warm water and prepared as best I could, but when I saw that gang before me I knew why they was called alum-eyes. They puckered my soul up, my hands got too wet with sweat for business--you know your fingers has got to be not too dry, to slip, and not too wet, to stick, if you’re turnin’ out high-grade work. “‘Well, I was excited, yet it was a reel pleasure to be up against reel men.