Now and then at night, in out-of-the way, dimly lighted places, I found myself happening on another child of misfortune.
He looked so seedy and forlorn, so homeless and friendless and forsaken, that I yearned toward him as a brother.

I wanted to claim kinship with him and go about and enjoy our wretchedness together.

The drawing toward each other must have been mutual; at any rate we got to falling together oftener, though still seemingly by accident; and although we did not speak or evince any recognition, I think the dull anxiety passed out of both of us when we saw each other, and then for several hours we would idle along contentedly, wide apart, and glancing furtively in at home lights and fireside gatherings, out of the night shadows, and very much enjoying our dumb companionship.
Finally we spoke, and were inseparable after that.

For our woes were identical, almost.

He had been a reporter too, and lost his berth, and this was his experience, as nearly as I can recollect it.