“‘At last they showed me where I was wrong, and instead of fussing around that pesky hotel, I spent the night in a calaboose. It was one of the pleasantest little jails I ever inhabited--airy, kind of roomy, when I lay on the floor with my head in one corner and my feet in the other--but, toward morning, I got restless and horrible hungry. I hadn’t et the night before, forgetting my supper in the fuss they made about that autograft album, so I shoved my bird-cage door off its hinges and started for grub. “‘I come upon the jailer eating his midnight meal--pie, cake, eggs--everything. He looked at me and reached for his gun. I took hold of him and reached for his lunch. I et that lunch and gave him one iron dollar, handed him the door, and said, “You keep this, so you don’t work any racket on me stealing your property; or, if you like, I will walk around town with it and you can swear your affidavit that I am still behind the jail door--if you only stand in front of me and look.” “‘He was a nervous kind of critter that wasn’t fit to take care of a bunch of sheep, let alone running a jail. Couldn’t get anything out of him. He was excited, so I spread them bars on the door apart, stuck his head in, let them snap back on his neck and sung him, _Come, Birdie, Come and Live With Me_! “‘He certainly was a comic-looking jailer, sitting back there with his head peeking through the door. The other fellers in there laughed to beat anything, and wanted me to cut ’em loose, but I couldn’t do that--havin’ come to the town for peace and quiet. “‘Howsumever, I recovered the goods they took from me, and fed the boys a little out of the thimbleful of high jumps I carried in my behind pocket, until everybody was singing, dancing jigs, and so happy that it did sure look like a little bird-cage filled with the merriest chirpers that ever teetered on a limb. “‘Come daybreak, I says good-by to the crowd and started out to see the city. I turned into the business district, but the stores wasn’t open yet, so I naturally meandered anywheres my fancy led me. “‘Some of them nice houses were sending up a curl of smoke for early breakfast, and some of them was tight shut, where the fellers that led easy lives weren’t up yet, but was sleeping peacefully in security, and I felt over-lonesome. Seemed like I hadn’t got what was coming to me, that I couldn’t have a little shack with red roses on it, and some nice, kind woman--that would think a durn sight more of me than I was wuth--to keep my feet out of the drafts for the rest of my days. “‘It was a purty sunrise. It ketched holt of the trees, it scattered red on the window-panes. The chickens was crowin’ and cacklin’ around. The dogs come out and give me a wet wallop on the back of my hand, or chased after me till I had to send them home. And the cats was sitting up on top of the fence-posts waiting for a friendly scratch on the back, and I did feel my life was wasted.