And once again I find poor old Mom at the bottom. Hobbling along, supporting herself with a broken cane, one foot in the gutter to that the cane would be long enough, holding her old bonnet out for spare change from passers-by, the hems of her skirts dirty with the debris of the streets, her poor old feet ill-shod....

It was well I found her, for she was about to beat up a cop again.

Anyway, I rescued her from durance vile and after collecting her things from the flophouse brought her safely home again.