and his absence from the old haunts puzzled
them. They were in the Hole-in-the-Wall saloon yesterday morning,
nearly a dozen of them, drinking, smoking, and playing cards, when in
walked Ugly Sam.

There was a deep silence for a moment as they looked at him. Sam had
a new hat, had been shaved clean, had on a clean collar and a white
shirt, and they didn't know him at first. When they saw that it was
Ugly Sam, they uttered a shout and leaped up.

"Cave in that hat!" cried one.

"Yank that collar off!" shouted another.

"Let's roll him on the floor!" screamed a third.

There was something in his look and bearing which made them hesitate.
The whiskey-red had almost faded from his face, and he looked sober
and dignified. His features expressed disgust and contempt as he
looked around the room, and then revealed pity as his eyes fell upon
the red eyes and bloated faces of the crowd before him.

"Why, what ails ye, Sam?" inquired Tall Chicago, as they all stood
there.

"I've come down to bid ye good-bye, boys!" he replied, removing his
hat and drawing a clean handkerchief from his pocket.

"What! Hev ye turned preacher?" they shouted in chorus.

"Boys, ye know I can lick any two of ye; but I hain't on the fight any
more, an' I've put down the last drop of whiskey which is ever to go
into my mouth! I've switched off. I've taken an oath. I'm going to be
decent!"

"Sam, be you crazy?" asked Port Huron Bill, coming nearer to him.

"I've come down here to tell ye all about it," answered Sam. "Move the
cha'rs back a little and give me room. Ye all know I've been rough,
and more too. I've been a drinker, a fighter, a gambler, and a loafer.
I can't look back and remember when I've earned an honest dollar. The
police hez chased me around like a wolf, and I've been in jail and the
work-house, and the papers has said that Ugly Sam was the terror of
the Potomac. Ye all know this, boys, but ye didn't know I had an old
mother."

The faces of the crowd expressed amazement.

"I never mentioned it to any of ye, for I was neglecting her," he went
on. "She was a poor old body living up here in the alley, and if the
neighbours hadn't helped her to fuel and food, she'd have been found
dead long ago. I never helped her to a cent--didn't see her for weeks
and weeks, and I used to feel mean about it. When a feller goes back
on his old mother, he's a-gittin' purty low, and I know it. Well,
she's dead--buried yesterday! I was up ther