The consideration for the latter attention was a quarter paid in hand to the porter; with the proprietor Richard left ten dollars, and orders to give the devious one the change in the morning after deducting for his entertainment.
The rescued printer, clothed and in his right mind, called upon Richard the next afternoon to thank him for his generosity and say that his name was Sands.

Mr.Sands, being sober and shaven, with clothes brushed, was in no sense a spectacle of shame.

Indeed, there were worse-looking people passing laws for the nation.

Richard was pleased, and said so.
"If I had a job, I'd go to work," said Mr.Sands, having had, as he expressed it, "his drunk out." The habit of charity grows upon one like the liquor habit; moreover, if once you help a man, you ever after feel compelled to help him to the end of time.

Richard was no exception to these philanthropic laws, and when Mr.Sands declared an eagerness to go to work, brought him to Senator Hanway, who promptly berthed him upon the Government printing office, where he was given a "case," and commenced tossing up types after the manner of a master.
If Senator Hanway had been able to probe the future, instead of setting Mr.Sands to work that December afternoon, he would have paid his way to London, had a trans-Atlantic trip been made the price of being rid of him.