I went over to a small grocery store, near the fair grounds, run by a Mrs. Sprague.
A beautiful young girl about fifteen years old, who was clerking in the store, brought me a pan of water to wash.
"Didn't you beat that passenger train in town?" asked the elderly lady, as I began washing.
"I did, madam, and I am sorry that circumstances necessitated my doing so," I replied.
"I thought I saw you jump off," she said, whispering something to the young girl, who vanished into the back part of the store.
It took nearly twenty minutes of hard scrubbing for me to get the cinders and grease out of my hair and eyes.
As I finished, the young lady re-entered the store and approached me:
"Come and have some breakfast," she said in a low voice, "its all ready and the coffee's hot."
For a moment I felt worse than at any time since leaving home. I tried to refuse, but they allowed me no chance.
"I've got a dear son myself wandering somewhere over this big world," said the good woman, putting a handkerchief to her eyes.