brakesman, walk into a saloon for the first time.  They first take a cigar, but soon the brakesman (an old stager) laughs them to scorn and confusion, and not being able to stand the fire, they throw down the cigar and take their first drink in a drinking saloon.  After the drinks have been repeated a few times, one of the brakesmen, well under the influence of whiskey or wine, takes a careful look at all present, and if satisfied there is no relative or sweetheart in hearing, he then and there tells an anecdote on one of the nice girls or married ladies with whom they have been dancing, that certainly would bring the blush of shame to the cheeks of the blackest devil that inhabits the world of outer darkness.  The drink, and anecdotes of the same character, only worse, if possible, are repeated until interrupted by the appearance of a half-witted looking young man, entering from a back door, who seems to have something of great importance to tell the bartender.  He talks low, but sufficiently loud to be heard by the boys, for it is really for their ears.  “Have you heard the news?” “No, what news.”  “Why, about Bill Jones; he went in back here to-night with only five dollars for a stake, and he has just now gone home with five hundred dollars in his pocket.”  Then the boys slide out, and as soon as out in a dark corner, they begin to enquire to see if a stake can be raised among them, finding none, one or two being confidential clerks, go to the store, bank or other place of business, and borrow fifteen or twenty dollars, having no doubt of their ability to win a few hundred dollars in a little while, and then replace the borrowed money without it ever being known.  Soon the borrowed stake is in the hands of the dealer.  They repeat the drinks, and then borrow some more in the same way, which goes into the same hands as the first, and thus they continue until the appearance of day-light, and then reeling to and fro under the influence of the mean whiskey they have been drinking, and the ponderous weight of their sins and crimes, they go to their rooms, cursing the day on which they were born.

THEY HAVE LOST ALL SELF-RESPECT.

They are now at sea without chart or compass.  When a man or woman loses their self-respect, they are moral wrecks.  “WANDERING STARS.”  There is nothing left to build upon.  It is from this cause that thousands commit suicide, both men, women, and girls.  It is the continual gnawings of the conscience over the secret sins and crimes they have not the moral courage to confess.  Like the hidden spark of fire in a bale of cotton, it continues its ravages until the whole bale is reduced to ashes.  This will account in great measure for the hundreds and thousands of unaccountable suicides of to-day, which are principally confined to the young of both sexes.