purty lonesome, just touch this li'l ring, an' you will know I am wid you, kid, lovin' you an' thinkin' about my Sam."
He kissed the li'l ring—gosh! it wuz regular Francis X. an' Mary Pickford stuff; only dis wuz the real thing; we wuz jist about breakin' our hearts in that li'l sketch.
Then Sam looked at the Big Ben an' sed, "Gosh, I gotta be goin', honey."
We walked over to the door. He put his arms around me, not sayin' a word, an' kissed me jest as silent, then quick he turns an' says: "So long, honey," an' wuz gone.
I stood an' watched him; but this ramble-shackle palace ain't set in grounds, so I could only see him goin' down the hall.
I ain't much fer size—never weighed a hundred in my life: jist a li'l rat,—but I've got to stick out my chest an' buck up. But before I git so fresh wid myself I'm goin' to have a good ol' bawl all to myself, an' I'm not goin' to leave none fer to-morrow. I'm gonna go down to de water early in de mornin', an' I might lamp 'em when they're sailin' away. None of de gang has never saw me bawl yet, an' they ain't agoin' to now.
Gosh! I wisht them ol' fog-horns would stop blowin': they'd make any guy shaky.
