Not
I. I don't propose to wait an hour for it, if I can help bring it
on; and I know I can.
There! I don't believe I have read fifteen reviews of any of my
books. Life is too short; but I am glad I did not miss that one.
Those are the fellows for whom Roosevelt is not a good enough
reformer; who chill the enthusiasm of mankind with a deadly chill,
and miscall it method--science. The science of how not to do a
thing--yes! They make me tired.
There was until last winter a doorway in Chatham Square, that of
the old Barnum clothing store, which I could never pass without
recalling those nights of hopeless misery with the policeman's
periodic "Get up there! move on!" reenforced by a prod of his club
or the toe of his boot. I slept there, or tried to when crowded
out of the tenements in the Bend by their utter nastiness. Cold
and wet weather had set in, and a linen duster was all that covered
my back. There was a woollen blanket in my trunk which I had from
home--the one, my mother had told 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.
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