me, in which I was wrapped when I was born; but the trunk was in the
"hotel" as security for money I owed for board, and I asked for it in
vain. I was now too shabby to get work, even if there had been any to
get. I had letters still to friends of my family in New York who might
have helped me, but hunger and want had not conquered my pride. I
would come to them, if at all, as their equal, and, lest I fall into
temptation, I destroyed the letters. So, having burned my bridges
behind me, I was finally and utterly alone in the city, with the winter
approaching and every shivering night in the streets reminding me that
a time was rapidly coming when such a life as I led could no longer be
endured.

Not in a thousand years would I be likely to forget the night when it
came. It had rained all day, a cold October storm, and night found me,
with the chill downpour unabated, down by the North River, soaked
through and through, with no chance for a supper, forlorn and
discouraged. I sat on the bulwark, listening to the falling rain and
the swish of the dark tide, and thinking of home. How far it seemed,
and how impassable the gulf now between the "castle" with its refined
ways, between her in her dainty girlhood and me sitting there, numbed
with the cold that was slowly stealing away my senses with my courage.
There was warmth and cheer where she was. Here---- An overpowering
sense of desolation came upon me. I hitched a little nearer the edge.
What if----? Would they miss me or long at home if no word came from
me? Perhaps they might never hear. What was the use of keeping it up
any longer with, God help us, everything against and nothing to back a
lonely lad?

And even then the help came. A wet and shivering body was pressed
against mine, and I felt rather than heard a piteous whine in my ear.
It was my companion in misery, a little outcast black-and-tan,
afflicted with fits, that had shared the shelter of a friendly doorway
with me one cold night and had clung to me ever since with a loyal
affection that was the one bright spot in my hard life. As my hand
stole mechanically down to caress it, it crept upon my knees and licked
my face, as if it meant to tell me that there was one who understood;
that I was not alone. And the love of the faithful little beast thawed
the icicles in my heart. I picked it up in my arms and fled from the
tempter; fled to where there were lights and men moving, if they cared
less