When I hoboed, and hadn't the price of a bed, a saloon was the only place that would receive me and give me a chair by the fire.

I could go into a saloon and wash up, brush my clothes, and comb my hair.

And saloons were always so damnably convenient.

They were everywhere in my western country.
I couldn't go into the dwellings of strangers that way.

Their doors were not open to me; no seats were there for me by their fires.