Its smell of cabbage came to have for me an inexpressible sensation of relief, of protection, even of luxury.

Here, at any rate, even in an actors' boarding-house, I was independent, as good as anybody, and not regarded as if I were a beggar on the one hand or a questionable character on the other.
How long this might have continued I have no means of knowing, but one afternoon as I was trudging uptown, still holding in my hand a copy of a legal journal, the advertisements in which I had been engaged in sedulously running down, my attention was attracted by a crowd gathered in the street around a young man who had been so unfortunate as to be run over by a stage.

There was nothing external to indicate the extent of his injuries, and as I drew nearer two persons assisted him to his feet and began to lead him toward the nearest store.

Having nothing better to do I walked along with them, and after they had gone inside remained looking curiously through the window.

While I was thus engaged a stout, bustling man of about forty years of age came hurrying down the sidewalk and turned to enter the store.