My Life in Prison - Donald Lowrie - Bog

I was broke. I had not eaten for three days. I had walked the streets for three nights. Every fiber of my being, every precept of my home training protested against and would not permit my begging. I saw persons all about me spending money for trifles, or luxuries. I envied the ragged street urchin as he took a nickel in exchange for a newspaper and ran expectantly to the next pedestrian. But I was broke and utterly miserable. Have you ever been broke?