The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 26

The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 26

After I had finished eating, he proposed to set off immediately; and,

as we walked leisurely along, I wondered how it was possible for a big

healthy fellow like this to be able to exist in any other manner than

by selling. On coming to the first public house he politely invited me

to enter, which I did, when he called for two pints of beer. He then

became communicative, telling me he was a gridler, and a good one too;

which I understood to mean a grinder, although I had not seen tools of

any description either in his hands or in his pockets. He paid for two

or three pints of beer in quick succession, and, not having had much

drink for a considerable time, I began to feel somewhat elated, and

began to make a laughing joke of my circumstances. "Now," said this

man, "to business; for we must get the price of our beds and a little

breakfast for the morning, not to mention the night's supper. All you

have to do," he said again, "is to pick up the coppers as they come."

Wondering what these words could mean, I followed him, on this

pleasant afternoon, up several side streets, until we came to the end

of one very long street, which had respectable looking houses on

either side of the road. My strange companion walked several yards

down this street, and then came to a sudden halt in the middle of the

road. "Now," said he, for the third or fourth time, "all you have to

do is to pick up the coppers. I ask you to do no more; except," he

added, grinning rather unpleasantly, "except to see that we are not

picked up by the coppers." His joke appeared simple enough, and I

could not fail to understand it, but it was not at all to my relish.

The last named coppers were police officers, who would be likely to

take hold of us for illegally appropriating the copper coins of the

realm. "Are you going to pick up the coppers?" he asked a little

impatiently, seeing me standing irresolute and undecided as to what to

do. Scarcely knowing how to answer him, I said that if I saw any

coppers he need have no fear but what I would pick them up. "All

right, that's good," he said, at the same time moving several feet

away from me. I stood still watching these mysterious movements, and

thinking of the coppers, wondering from what source they would be

supplied. He now turned his back, without more ado, and, setting his

eyes on the front windows before him, began, to my amazement, to sing

a well known hymn, singing it in the most horrible and lifeless voice

I have ever heard. In spite of the drink, which had now taken effect,

making my head swell with stupidity, I still felt an overwhelming

shame at finding myself in this position. I stood irresolute, not

knowing whether to wait the result of this, or to leave him at once

with short ceremony. But, whilst ruminating in this frame of mind, I

heard a window open with a loud creak, saw the shaking of a fair hand,

and then heard a copper coin fall on the hard earth within a yard of

where I stood. Being penniless I was nothing loth to take possession

of this coin, and had scarcely done so, when a front door opened on

the other side of the street, and a fat florid old gentleman appeared

and beckoned me across to him. Going immediately to this gentleman, I

received twopence and, after thanking him, joined my companion in the

road. Now, as I belong to a race of people that are ever prone to

song, whether it be in a public house or a prayer meeting, it will not

surprise many to know that ere long I was making strong attempts to

sing bass to this man's miserable treble, and only ceased to do so

when it became necessary to stoop and pick up the coppers, which

continued to come in at the rate of two to the minute. The effect of

my voice on my companion was immediately apparent. His limbs shook,

his knees bent and knocked together, and his voice quivered and

quavered with a strong emotion. He was now singing another well-known

hymn, better known perhaps than the last; and what with his tall form

bent double to half its height, and the wringing of his hands in

despair--a poor wretch who was apparently broken both in body and

spirit--he was, at this particular stage, the most miserable looking

mortal I have ever beheld. He was in this old man's broken attitude

when, to my surprise, he suddenly straightened his great body, and

gazed about one second down the street. After which he quickly turned

on his heels, saying, in short peremptory tones--"Quick march," at the

same time suiting the action to the words, in sharp military steps.

What the people, in their different windows, and on their doors,

thought of this change, I cannot say. I looked down the street, and

then saw that a police officer had just turned its far corner, and was

coming slowly in our direction. My companion waited for me at our end

of the street, where I joined him as soon as possible. "It is getting

harder every day for a poor man to get a living," he said, when I

stood beside him. "Suppose you count the earnings," he said. "We work

together well." On doing this, I found twenty pennies to be in my

possession, and, at his suggestion, we there and then shared them

alike. "Friend," he began, "before we commence again, let me give you

a word or two of advice. First of all, you sing in too lusty a voice,

as though you were well fed, and in good health. Secondly, you are in

too much of a hurry to move on, and would get out of people's hearing

before they have time to be affected. Try to sing in a weaker voice:

draw out the easy low notes to a greater length, and cut the difficult

high notes short, as though you had spasms in the side. Your object

is to save your voice as much as possible, indifferent to the demands

of music, or the spirit of the song. When we start in another street,"

he continued,--but at this admonitory point I cut him short, telling

him that I had had enough of--eh--gridling. "What, enough of

chanting?" he cried in amaze. "Why, my dear fellow, it is the best

thing on the road, bar none. All right," he said, seeing my

determination not to make a fresh start, "we will make our way to the

lodging house: it is not far from here."

 

We were soon comfortably settled in this place, and when, after having

had a good tea, I was sitting smoking, and enjoying a newspaper, I

felt more pleased than ashamed of what I had done; for I was going to

bed with an easy stomach, and had coppers in my pocket for a good

breakfast. Therefore, when a fellow lodger, a hawker, who was now

taking an inventory of his wares, and who had probably seen and heard

us singing that day, when following his own calling--when this man

enquired of me if the town was good for gridlers, I answered him very

pleasantly indeed, that there was nothing to complain of.

 

After breakfast, the next morning, my companion of the preceding day

proposed putting in a good eight hours' work, but I at once cut him

short saying that such a business was not in my line. Now, several

women were at this place; some of them were married, and some single,

and most of them made and sold fancy work of embroidery. After I had

spoken so decisively to my companion he had sat near to one of these

women, at the other end of the kitchen. This woman, who seemed to be

the wife of a knife and scissors grinder, had a little girl of about

seven years of age. "Yes," said this woman, in answer to some question

my companion had made, "you can have the kid all day; it's not the

first time, by a long way, for Mary Ann to be used by gridlers, and

she knows as well as you what's wanted of her." Not long after this

remark my companion and the woman's child left the kitchen together.

This I, subsequently, often saw done. Almost any woman, if she called

herself a true traveller, would lend her child for this purpose; the

woman or child, of course, deriving some part of the profit: so that

when a man is seen with one or more children, it is not always to be

granted that he is the father of them. These children are rarely

subjected to ill usage--except that of enforced tramping--but are more

often spoilt by indulgence, especially if they show early signs of

that cunning which is needed for their future, and which is the boast

of their parents.

 

What a merry lot of beggars were assembled here; and how busy they all

seemed to be, making articles for sale, and washing and mending their

clothes! two or three of them sitting shirtless during the process of

drying.

 

It has become a common __EXPRESSION__ to say "dirty tramp," or, "as dirty

as a tramp"; but this is not always true, except occasionally in the

large cities; although such a term may be applied morally to them all.

There is one species of tramp who wanders from workhouse to workhouse;

and this man, having every night to conform strictly to the laws of

cleanliness, is no less clean, and often cleaner, than a number of

people whose houses contain bath rooms which they seldom use. Another

species of tramp is proud of being a good beggar, who scorns the

workhouse, but who knows well that a clean appearance is essential to

his success. For this reason, any one that enters a common lodging

house can at once see what efforts are being made to this end. It

seems strange to say, but the dirtiest looking tramp is often the most

honest and respectable, for he has not the courage to beg either food

or clothes, nor will he enter the doors of a workhouse. I have seen

this so often the case that I would much prefer to believe a dirty

ragged tramp who might tell me that he had a good home six months

previous, than to believe his cleaner namesake, who seems so eager to

impart this information unsolicited. It is certainly the man who has

had a good home, and has been waited on by other hands, who soon

succumbs to a filthy condition, when it becomes necessary to wait on

himself by washing and patching his own clothes; and the higher his

former position has been the lower he sinks in the social strata.

 

It is no difficult matter to get company when travelling. The pedlar,

whom I have mentioned before, asked me if I was going towards

Coventry, and if I intended to do business on the road. To this

question I answered that such might be the case, but I could not say

for sure--at the same time knowing that it was very unlikely. "Come

along then," he said, "and do business if you feel inclined; but, I

warn you, it is a very poor road for a gridler." We started at once,

and, in the course of our journey I told him everything--my first

experience of gridling and my dislike to it, and how my wares had been

spoilt by the rain, which had prevented me, through having no stock,

nor money to buy it, from earning my living in a respectable manner as

a pedlar. "Of course," he said, "you have a pedlar's certificate?" I

answered him in the affirmative, and added that I had not earned one

penny with it up to that moment.

 

As we jogged along talking in this way, we came to a small village,

when the pedlar, stopping short, asked if I would like to help him to

do a little trade. Knowing that something had to be done, as I had but

twopence halfpenny in my pocket, I assured him that I would. Hearing

this he took two bundles of laces from his pack, leather and mohair,

and placed them in my hands, at the same time saying--"You work on

one side of the village and I'll attend to the other." I passed

several houses before I had the courage to knock at their doors, but

seeing him go calmly from door to door, I nerved myself to follow his

example, and was soon doing the same, and, as far as I could see, was

meeting with more success. This so encouraged me that I was soon

regretting that I had no more houses left on my side of the village.

But, instead of waiting patiently until he had done, I took a

desperate notion and went back to the houses which I had at first

passed. After this we jogged on towards Coventry, which we reached

that evening.

 

We worked Coventry together for four or five days, and the result was

nine shillings and some odd pence in my pocket. This pedlar was going

to spend a week or two with a brother in Birmingham, whom he had not

seen for a number of years. But, before we left Coventry, he persuaded

me to stock myself with three shillings' worth of stuff, and, said he,

"never let a day pass you without doing some business, however little;

and never allow your stock to get low." We reached Birmingham, and, after he had shown and recommended a lodging house, he wished me good-bye, with many hopes that we might meet again.