ve me the stars were winking and wheeling in squadrons
back and forth as the train rounded the curves, and watching them I
fell asleep. The day was done--one day of all my days. To-morrow would
be another day, and I was young.

"PINCHED"

I rode into Niagara Falls in a "side-door Pullman," or, in common
parlance, a box-car. A flat-car, by the way, is known amongst the
fraternity as a "gondola," with the second syllable emphasized and
pronounced long. But to return. I arrived in the afternoon and headed
straight from the freight train to the falls. Once my eyes were filled
with that wonder-vision of down-rushing water, I was lost. I could not
tear myself away long enough to "batter" the "privates" (domiciles)
for my supper. Even a "set-down" could not have lured me away. Night
came on, a beautiful night of moonlight, and I lingered by the falls
until after eleven. Then it was up to me to hunt for a place to "kip."

"Kip," "doss," "flop," "pound your ear," all mean the same thing;
namely, to sleep. Somehow, I had a "hunch" that Niagara Falls was a
"bad" town for hoboes, and I headed out into the country. I climbed a
fence and "flopped" in a field. John Law would never find me there, I
flattered myself. I lay on my back in the grass and slept like a babe.
It was so balmy warm that I woke up not once all night. But with the
first gray daylight my eyes opened, and I remembered the wonderful
falls. I climbed the fence and started down the road to have another
look at them. It was early--not more than five o'clock--and not until
eight o'clock could I begin to batter for my breakfast. I could spend
at least three hours by the river. Alas! I was fated never to see the
river nor the falls again.

The town was asleep when I entered it. As I came along the quiet
street, I saw three men coming toward me along the sidewalk. They were
walking abreast. Hoboes, I decided, like myself, who had got up early.
In this surmise I was not quite correct. I was only sixty-six and
two-thirds per cent correct. The men on each side were hoboes all
right, but the man in the middle wasn't. I directed my steps to the
edge of the sidewalk in order to let the trio go by. But it didn't go
by. At some word from the man in the centre, all three halted, and he
of the centre addressed me.

I piped the lay on the instant. He was a "fly-cop" and the two hoboes
were his prisoners. John Law was up and out after the early worm. I
was a worm. Had I b