The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 27

The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 27

As usual, my first enquiry after I had settled for my lodgings, was

for the public library. This place I found so much to my liking, what

with its variety of journals, its number of papers, and so much

comfort and accommodation for its visitors--that business was entirely

out of the question until the third day, when I woke to the awkward

fact that my last three coppers were then being spent on a meal. At

this I made up my mind to hawk on the outskirts of Birmingham for a

month or more, so that my evenings might be enjoyed in its library.

But, apparently, I was not cut out for this kind of business. Hawking

required a perseverance which I certainly did not possess. For when a

person declined to make a purchase, instead of crying up the cheapness

of my wares, I walked away dumbfounded to the next house. Yes, the

success or ill success of this buying and selling was all a simple

matter of tongue. A big able-bodied fellow, with a persistent tongue,

can talk charity out of the people who indifferently pass the silent

blind man. Of course this business of hawking with a few cheap laces,

and a few packets of common pins or needles, was after all only

another name for begging, and it was well for us that the people knew

it, for they often paid for what they declined to receive. They knew

that these things were to be had much cheaper at a store. In

exoneration of this fraudulent selling, a man was expected to tell

some tale of distress. This I found difficulty in doing, except on

being asked direct questions; and the people would often stand after

refusing to purchase with their hands in their pockets ready to assist

on the first confession of distress. The number of times people have

called me back, after I have left their doors, and assisted me, has

often proved to me how they have waited to have their first feelings

of pity strengthened by some recital of poverty. No doubt there was

some sort of a living to be made in this way, providing a man talked

incessantly and went for hours from house to house, and from street to

street; and when he failed in the line of business to plead for the

sake of charity. It must have been over two hours and my takings had

amounted to ninepence, nearly all profit I admit. Looking at this

paltry amount I now reversed my former opinion as to the resources of

a large city, and came to the conclusion that the small country towns

and villages were after all more willing, if not better able, to

support me. Therefore, instead of returning to the city I took the

road towards Warwick, intending when I reached that town to use my

tongue to some purpose. And how many houses have I visited with this

same resolution, but, alas, many of the towns were passed through

without any one hearing the sound of my voice.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXIV

 

ON THE DOWNRIGHT

 

 

On my way towards Warwick I joined company with a grinder, and we

travelled socially together towards that ancient town. When we

arrived, we lost no time in seeking a lodging house, which we soon

found, but, to my surprise, the landlady, a big raw-boned, slatternly

woman said, looking sternly at my companion: "I will have no grinders

in my house." Of course, I did not know at that time what I have heard

subsequently. Of all the men on the road, following various

occupations, the grinder is, I believe, the most thoroughly detested.

As a rule he is a drunken dissolute fellow, a swearer, and one who, if

he picks up a quarrel, which is usually the case, is in no hurry to

drop it. The more unpretentious lodgers hate his presence, seeing that

he makes himself more at home than the landlord himself. I have often

heard travellers tell of a small village in the north of England,

which grinders dare not enter, pass through or lodge therein for the

night, and it is the regret of many travellers that there are not more

villages of its kind distributed throughout the country. It seems

that some years ago, a great wind had visited that particular town,

and floored the roofs of the houses, and grounded the church steeple,

many of the inhabitants being injured, and not a few killed. Now, it

happened that the day following this great disaster, two unfortunate

grinders, who had arrived in town the night before, and slept at the

village inn, appeared in the streets and made a great shout in

soliciting orders. Some way or another the inhabitants connected these

poor wretches with the great wind, and set upon them, and proceeded to

beat them out of the town, coming near to killing them; and, since

that day the town has been visited by neither grinders nor great

winds. Even in larger towns these people often experience great

difficulty in procuring lodgings. This state of affairs was not known

to me at this time, or I should certainly not have been anxious for

the company of one of these despised people.

 

We were admitted at the next lodging house, but even here the landlady

seemed to have some compunction at so doing; for she followed us to

the kitchen and without saying a word, placed her two hands on her

broad hips, at the same time looking severely at my grinder, as much

as to say--"If you are going to start any of your capers, let it be at

once, my hearty grinder, now I am watching you, and we'll soon see

who's who." We sat down quietly, and the landlady, thinking that this

attitude had had its desired effect, left the kitchen, not forgetting

to throw a last glance at my grinder, who was trying his best to hide

his nervousness by puffing hard at his pipe and nearly choking in the

attempt.

 

Some ten or fifteen men were in this room, some of them busy preparing

work for the next day. Two were busy making artificial flowers; one

was working with copper wire, turning and twisting it into toasting

forks, plate holders, and hangers to suspend flower pots. Two others

were in the rag and bone trade, for I had seen them when I first

entered, overlooking their stuff in the backyard. One man was a

pedlar, for there was his pack, towards which he often turned his

eyes, in distrust of his company. One was a musician, for there,

sticking out of the top pocket of his coat, was a common tin whistle.

"There," said I to myself, glancing at a man on my right hand--"here

is the only respectable working man among them all." This man had on a

clean moleskin pair of trousers, a pilot cloth coat, and on his neck a

large clean white muffler. "Grinder?" asked this man, catching my eye

before I could avoid it. "No," I answered, "a pedlar." "Oh," said he,

"I didn't notice you carrying a pack when you came in." Alas! my

little stock could easily be carried in my pockets. "No," I answered,

"as a rule I don't carry much stock." "I shouldn't think you would,"

he said, glancing at my leg, "a bible ought to be enough for you, and

a good living too." Now it happened that when I left London, I had

made room in my pockets for two books which, up till that time, I had

very little opportunity of reading. One was the bible, and the other

was a small printed and cheap paper cover edition of Wordsworth. So,

hearing this man mention a bible, I became extremely curious to learn

how a man could earn a living by carrying a book of this kind. Seeking

this information I said to this man--"I shouldn't think that there was

much money to be made by carrying a bible." "Why not," he asked; "if

you carry in your hand a decent rake (a comb), a flashy pair of sniffs

(scissors) and a card of good links and studs--that is certainly a

good bible for a living; but there is not much profit in a pair of

stretchers (laces) or a packet of common sharps (needles). As for me,"

he continued, "I am on the downright, and I go in for straight

begging, without showing anything in my hand. That grinder, whom I

thought you were with, and am glad you are not, works very hard at

dragging that old ricketty contrivance with him all over the country;

and is he any better off than I am? I never fail to get the sixteen

farthings for my feather (bed), I get all the scrand (food) I can eat;

and I seldom lie down at night but what I am half skimished (half

drunk), for I assure you I never go short of my skimish." Being

curious to see this man at work, and to hear the tales with which he

approached people, I told him I would accompany him the next day as

far as Stratford, that was if he had no objection to my company, as I

also intended to visit that town before I made my way towards London.

To this proposal he seemed perfectly agreeable.

 

The next morning arrived and after having had breakfast, we set out.

We had scarcely set foot outside the lodging house, when I saw this

downrighter dodge in and out of shops with an astonishing alacrity,

more like a customer than a beggar; but with what success I could not

tell. He seemed to go in smiling, and to come out the same, until we

were at last at the business end of the town. He did not confide in me

as to his success or failure; but generously invited me to a smoke. We

filled our pipes, but just as I was about to strike a match, my

companion interrupted me with--"Wait until we are on the other side of

the sky pilot." Looking down the road I saw a clergyman approaching us

at a fast rate, carrying something in his hand which proved on nearer

view to be a book of prayers. When this black cloth was within three

or four feet of us, my companion began to address him in a very

serious voice, calling him in his ignorance, or perhaps,

excitement--"your reverend highness." The gentleman in black cloth

seemed to have been expecting something of this kind, for, without

turning his head either to the right or left, he passed on, going if

possible, at a greater speed. On seeing which my companion shouted in

a jeering voice--"Go it, old hearty, and remember me in yer prayers."

As we proceeded on our way he laughed immoderately. "Yes," he said, "I

have always found a bible or a prayer book in a person's hand to be

the sign of an uncharitable disposition. Seldom do I get anything from

them, but I like to pester them. Now, if this had been a man with a

bottle, or jug of beer in his hand, I would have had a civil answer at

the very least." The indifference of this reverend gentleman, and the

experience my companion seemed to have had of this kind in general,

surprised me not a little; for this man I was with certainly had the

appearance of an honest working man of the better class; his clothes

were good, and his flesh was clean, and he certainly had not forgotten

the barber.

 

My companion allowed no person to pass us without making an appeal,

and it was made apparent to me that he was successful in a number of

cases. In times of failure people listened to this respectable looking

fellow, and regretted that they had left home without having brought

coppers with them. At one time we saw a man who had dismounted to

examine his bicycle, probably having heard some part of it go click

and fearing an accident, had paused for an investigation. We stood

before this man, and my companion in straightforward, manly tones,

asked him for assistance. The gentleman began to stammer, to hem and

to haw, at the same time saying that he regretted that he was not at

that moment exactly in the position to----"Friend," broke in my bold

downrighter, in a stern solemn voice, laying his heavy hand on the

man's shoulder; "friend, you see before you two men in extreme want,

who must be relieved in this very hour." We were standing in the man's

way, and he could not possibly escape without knocking us over.

Apparently the man was afraid, for he first looked at our faces, and

after looking backward and then forward, he produced a silver

sixpence, saying he trusted that that amount would be of some service

to us. We made sure of this and then cleared ourselves from his path,

allowing him space to mount and ride, an opportunity of which he

quickly availed himself. This looked very much like highway robbery,

but strangely, I was better satisfied at this open independent way of

transacting business than by whining forth pitiful tales of want, however true they might be.