“I looked at her in surprise.  Send me to a reformatory?  I told her that I did not think that I was sunk so low, or bound so fast in the coils of the ‘worm of the still,’ that it was necessary for me, a young man not yet entered into the prime of manhood, to be confined in a place designed for the cure of habitual drunkards.  I had heard vague stories, but nothing definite concerning the Home, and thought that the question was an insult, but I did not reply to the question.  All that night my thoughts would revert to the above question.  My life past since I had become a devotee of the ‘demon of strong drink,’ passed in review before my mind.  What had I gained?  How improved?  What had I obtained by it?  And the answer was nothing.  Then I asked myself, What had I lost by it?  And the answer came to me with crushing force, everything that maketh life desirable.  Starting out young in years into the busy highways of the world, with a good fortune, bright prospects and a host of friends to aid and cheer me on, I had lost ALL in my love for strong drink, and at times I thought and felt that I was a modern Ishmael.

“The lady, the next morning, again returned to the attack, and then, not thinking it an insult, but a benefit, to be conferred on me, I yielded a willing acquiescence.  That same evening, with a slow step and aching head, I walked up Madison Street towards the Washingtonian Home, with thoughts that I would be considered by the officers of the institution as a sort of a felon, or, if not that, at least something very near akin to the brute, and it was with a sinking heart that I pushed open the main door and ascended the broad, easy stairs to the office.  I asked if the superintendent was in, and the gentlemanly clerk at the desk told me that he was, and would be down immediately, meanwhile telling me to be seated.  After the lapse of a few minutes, the superintendent, Mr. Wilkins, came into the office, his countenance beaming with benevolence.  He took the card that I had brought with me, read it, and, turning round to where I sat, with a genial smile lighting up his countenance, with outstretched hand, greeted me most kindly and introduced me to the gentlemen present.  I was dumbfounded, and it was with great difficulty that I restrained myself from shedding tears.  It was the very opposite of the reception that I had pictured that I would receive, and I found that I was to be treated as a human being and not as a brute.  With a smile, the superintendent addressed me again, and told me to follow him; and it was with a lighter heart and spirits that I ascended the second flight of stairs than the first, I can assure you.  I was brought to the steward, who also greeted me most kindly, conversed with me a short time, fixed up some medicine for me and then took me into the hospital.  By the word ‘hospital,’ dear reader, you must not take the usual definition of all that word implies, but in this case, take it as a moderate-sized room with eight or nine beds, covered with snow-white sheets and coverlids, and filled with air of the purest; no sickly smells or suffering pain to offend the most delicate.