Here the joker opened his mouth again, but was warmly requested to
shut it.

"Then, chaps, I got thinking. My conscience began to hurt me,
and--and hurt worse every day. It nearly drove me to drink again.
Ah, boys, a man--if he is a man--can't expect to wrong a woman and
escape scot-free in the end." (Sigh from Lally Thompson.)
"It's the one thing that always comes home to a man, sooner
or later--you know what that means, boys."

Lally Thompson: "My oath!"

The joker: "Dry up yer crimson oath! What do you know about
women?"

Cries of "Order!"

"Well," continued the story-teller, "I got thinking. I heard that
my wife had broken her heart when I left her, and that made matters
worse. I began to feel very bad about it. I felt mean. I felt
disgusted with myself. I pictured my poor, ill-treated, little wife
and children in misery and poverty, and my conscience wouldn't let me
rest night or day"--(Lally Thompson seemed greatly moved)--"so at
last I made up my mind to be a man, and make--what's the word?"

"Reparation," suggested the joker.

"Yes, so I slaved like a nigger for a year or so, got a few pounds
together and went to find my wife. I found out that she was living in