I decided to go to the Carey for several reasons. It was the most
dangerous, being the finest. The low doggery will take the low and keep
them low but these so-called respectable ones will take the respectable,
make them low, then kick them out. A poor vagabond applied to a bar
tender in one of these hells glittering with crystalized tears and fine
fixtures. The man behind the bar said, "You get out, you disgrace my place."
The poor creature, who had been his mother's greatest treasure, shuffled
out toward the door. Another customer came in, a nice looking young
man with a good suit, a white collar, and looking as if he had plenty
of money, The smiling bar tender mixed a drink and was handing it to
him. The poor vagabond from the door called out. "Oh, don't begin on
him. Five years ago, I came into your place, looking just like that
young man. You have made me what you see me now. Give that drink
to me and finish your work. Don't begin on him."
I went back to the hotel and bound the rod and cane together, then
wrapped paper around the top of it. I slept but little that night, spending
most of the night in prayer. I wore a large cape. I took the cane
and walked down the back stairs the next morning, and out in the alley
I picked up as many rocks as I could carry under my cape. I walked into
the Carey Bar-room, and threw two rocks at the picture; then turned
and smashed the mirror that covered almost the entire side of the large
room.
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