A good Samaritan, passing an apartment house in the small hours of the
morning, noticed a man leaning limply against the doorway.
"What's the matter?" he asked, "Drunk?"
"Yep."
"Do you live in this house?"
"Yep."
"Do you want me to help you upstairs?"
"Yep."
With much difficulty he half dragged, half carried the drooping figure
up the stairway to the second floor.
"What floor do you live on?" he asked. "Is this it?"
"Yep."
Rather than face an irate wife who might, perhaps, take him for a
companion more at fault than her spouse, he opened the first door he
came to and pushed the limp figure in.
The good Samaritan groped his way downstairs again. As he was passing
through the vestibule he was able to make out the dim outlines of
another man, apparently in worse condition than the first one.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Are you drunk, too?"
"Yep," was the feeble reply.
"Do you live in this house, too?"
"Yep."
"Shall I help you upstairs?"
"Yep."
The good Samaritan pushed, pulled, and carried him to the second floor,
where this man also said he lived. He opened the same door and pushed
him in.
As he reached the front door he discerned the shadow of a third man,
evidently worse off than either of the other two. He was about to
approach him when the object of his solicitude lurched out into the
street and threw himself into the arms of a passing policeman.
"For Heaven's sake, off'cer," he gasped, "protect me from that man. He's
done nothin' all night long but carry me upstairs 'n throw me down th'
elevator shaf."
There was a young man from the city,
Who met what he thought was a kitty;
He gave it a pat,
And said, "Nice little cat!"
And they buried his clothes out of pity.