“But no longer. Now I’m the butt of their jokes—young ruffians! whippersnappers!Why, I considered their fathersmere inexperienced pups.But they are worse than dogs—good for nothing,stray, mangy animals,Half-starved, scavenging the back alleys,howling at the moon;Homeless guttersnipeschewing on old bones and licking old tin cans;Outcasts from the community,cursed as dangerous delinquents.Nobody would put up with them;they were driven from the neighborhood.You could hear them out there at the edge of town,yelping and barking, huddled in junkyards,A gang of beggars and no-names,thrown out on their ears.