The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 33

The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 33

Therefore, I had

not the least idea but what this was the voice of a human being,

although it sounded uncanny and strange. I moved again, and again

heard that loud peal of laughter. This voice evidently only mocked

when I moved, for when I stood still, not a sound was to be heard.

This time I gave up all thoughts of making a bed, and being now filled

with fear, picked up the thick stick with which I travelled, and stood

on the defensive, every moment expecting to see a madman burst from

under the trees and in three leaps and a bound be at my side. These

movements seemed to cause some merriment, but the laughter again

ceased when I stood watching and waiting, and puzzled how to act. Rest

was now out of the question, and I made up my mind to leave that

accursed place instantly. With this intention I made my way towards

the gate. I had scarcely moved in that direction, when the laughing

began, this time continuing for a long time, as though jeering its

last at my defeat. When I reached the gate, and passed through to the

open road, my courage returned, and I looked with some bitterness to

see the figure of some country lout hurrying into the darkness, after

succeeding in robbing me of my sleep; but, to my surprise, I heard no

one, and could see no figure on the road before or behind. It was now

that superstition took hold of me, and I got off with all possible

speed, often looking back to see if I was pursued; and I did not stop

until a human settlement lay between me and that accursed park. Often

have I thought of that night. It is natural to suppose that a

thoughtless ploughman, or farm labourer, would have stood at the

roadside and laughed or shouted once or twice, and then passed on, but

it is scarcely probable that he would have remained there to carry his

joke so far. Granted that he had had the courage to laugh so many

times, taunting one at a distance, where was his courage now that he

had run away, or still stood concealed behind the trees? The voice

sounded human, but still seemed wild and a little unnatural. After

much consideration the only conclusion I could put to the affair was

that the voice came from a bird in the trees; an escaped pet bird that

could imitate the human voice. This solution of the mystery did not

altogether satisfy me, for I have never had cause to believe that any

bird could so perfectly imitate the human voice. Superstition must

have thoroughly possessed me for the once in my life, or I should not

have walked all night, after the painful exertion of the day.

 

If I settled towards night time in any place where a bird came hopping

restlessly from branch to branch, making a series of short cries of

fear, to let me know that I was lying too close to its nest, I would

without hesitation shift my position, often to my own discomfort; but

at the same time, people could pass to and fro to my indifference.

 

I would never beg, unless forced to the last extremity, for I feared

the strange fascination that arises from success, after a man has once

lost his shame. On one occasion I saw a well dressed couple wheeling

their bicycles up an incline, which was too steep to ride. Evidently

they were lovers, for they seemed to be in no hurry to reach the top

of the hill and end their conversation by riding. As I drew near the

lady produced her purse, and, placing something in her companion's

hand, motioned over her shoulder in my direction. On which the

gentleman nodded, and immediately glanced back towards me. Now, these

people could not very well make the first overtures, for the simple

reason that they know not whether a man is in want, or is a poor, but

proud and respectable inhabitant of one of the adjacent villages. I

preferred to impress them with the latter opinion, for, when I reached

them, I put on an extra spurt, and was soon beyond their hearing. No,

I would never make a good beggar, for here was money in readiness, to

come at the sound of my voice, or to be drawn by the simple side

glance of my eye. When I was some distance away, I looked back, and

saw the lady looking rather disappointed, receiving back her coin. Her

companion was laughing, no doubt consoling her by saying that I was

hardly likely to be in actual need, or I would have asked for

assistance, and probably my home was somewhere near. The truth of the

matter was that at this time I had not a copper to bless myself with.

 

Days, weeks, and months went on, and it was now the month of October.

It was now that I began to find the necessity of having a bed every

night, having been satisfied up till then with a bed once or perhaps

twice a week, according to the coppers received. I was back again in

Swindon, having been there some time previous, when on my way to

Devonshire. The first three months of sacrifice were over, and I was

very little the worse for it; but the next three months required

different means, to correspond with the difference in the time of

year. Shelter was necessary every night, and to meet these stern

demands, I needed something to sell, so as to be sure of coppers for

this purpose. With this idea, I bought two dozen laces with the last

three coppers I had, and re-opened business as a hawker. The success

with which I met in this town astonished me, owing, I believe, to its

being a working man's town, and not filled with half-pay officers and

would-be aristocrats that cannot afford, but still feel it their duty,

to live in fine villas in the locality of a royal residence. The poor,

sympathetic people seemed to understand a man's wants. Business was

often transacted without the utterance of words. Taking a pair of

laces, they would give a copper, and, smiling their sympathy, close

the door. Often one would pay for these useless things and not take

them. The kindness of these people so filled me with gratitude, that I

found it impossible to continue selling after I had received enough to

supply the day's wants, which would often be in less than half an

hour. I remained here for two weeks, being able to allow myself half

an ounce of tobacco and a halfpenny paper every day. The only thing

that worried me in this town was the persistence of an old beggar in

the lodging house. Night after night, this man would advise me to go

out and stand pad. This was, he explained, that a man, who is

afflicted with the loss of an arm, a hand or a leg, blind, paralysed

or lame, should stand or sit in a public place in the town, holding in

his hand matches, laces or any other cheap trifle, so that he might

invite the charity of passers by. This old man could not understand

why this was not done, seeing that it required no eloquence--the very

act and the affliction speaking for themselves--and was so successful

a dodge that even able-bodied men could often pick up a shilling or

two in this way. At last I became so impressed with this old man's

eloquence, that I left the lodging house three times in one night with

a firm resolution to stand pad, and three times I returned without

having done so. On the last occasion I did make a little attempt, but

foolishly took up a position where no one could see me.

 

Before I left Swindon I wrote to a friend of mine in Canada,

requesting him to forward me a pound to London, as soon as possible,

which would be returned to him at the beginning of the new year. I did

this so that I might have a couple of weeks at the end of December to

prepare my MS. and to be ready for business as soon as that time

arrived. It was now the latter end of October, and this pound could

not reach London far short of a month. Thinking I was not likely again

to suffer for want of a bed or food, after this success in Swindon, I

bought a good stock of laces and left that town, with the intention of

working the towns on the outskirts of London, so that when ready to

enter I would be within a day's march. Unfortunately, after leaving

Swindon, success deserted me, which was certainly more my fault than

that of the people, for I made very little appeal to them. Arriving at

Maidenhead, I had the bare price of my bed, with a dry bread supper

and breakfast. My laces were being exhausted, and I was without means

to replenish them. From town to town I walked around London, sometimes

making sixpence, and always less than a shilling a day; and this small

amount had to purchase bed, food, and occasionally a couple of dozen

laces. The monotony of this existence was broken a little at

Guildford, where I was arrested on suspicion of crime. A plain clothes

officer happened to be in the office of the lodging house, who, when

he set eyes upon me, requested a few moments conversation, at the same

time leading the way out into the yard. He then came to a halt under a

lamp, and, taking from his pocket some papers, began to read, often

raising his eyes to scrutinise my person. "Yes," he said, at last, "no

doubt you are the man I want, for you answer his description." "I

suppose," was my answer, "it is a case of arrest?" "It is," he said,

"and you must accompany me to the station." On my way to that place he

asked many a question of what I had done with my overcoat, and as to

the whereabouts of my wife. It had been several years since I had

owned the former, and the latter I had never possessed; but this man

could not be convinced of either. "Which way have you come?" he asked.

To which I mentioned one or two shires. At this he pricked up his

ears, and asked if I had been in a certain town in one of those

shires, which I had, and saw no reason to say otherwise. Unfortunately

this was the town where the guilty man had operated. The detective was

certainly not very smart when he took this confession as evidence of

guilt, for the guilty man would have mentioned that particular town as

one of the last places to visit. I certainly answered to the

description of the man wanted, with the exception of not having a

blotchy face, which had been characteristic of the guilty man. But on

my face they saw no blotches, nor signs of any having been there in

the past. Of course, I was discharged in an hour, and returned to the

lodging house for the night. The following day I happened to be in

Dorking, and was walking through that town, when I heard quick steps

behind me, and a voice cry--"Halt: I want you." Turning my head I saw

it was a police officer. This man at once took possession of me,

saying that he fortunately had been looking through the police station

window, when he saw me passing, and that I answered to the description

of a man wanted--"for that affair at Cheltenham," I added. "Ha," he

said, his face lighting with pleasure, "how well you know." We

returned quietly to the police station, and when I confronted his

superior officer, I asked that person if I was to be arrested in every

town through which I passed; telling my experience the night before at

Guildford. After one or two questions, and a careful reading of the

description paper, also an examination of my pedlar's certificate, he

told me I was at liberty to go my way, at the same time saying that no

man with any sense would have arrested me. After this I was not again

troubled by police officers, owing perhaps, to their having arrested the guilty man.