The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 38

The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 38

As a matter of fact, no one man in a common lodging house is supposed

to be regarded with any special favour. The common kitchen is his

library, his dining room and his parlour, and better accommodation

cannot be expected at the low price of fourpence per night. We are all

equal, without a question of what a man's past may have been, or what

his future is likely to realise. Any man who puts on superior airs is

invariably subjected to this sarcastic enquiry--"How much do you pay?"

or the incontrovertible remark that one man's fourpence is as good as

another's. The Manager has to use great tact in not indulging in too

long a conversation with one particular man, and a lodger must not

jeopardise his popularity by an overweening anxiety to exchange

civilities, or to repose confidence in those who are in authority; for

these lodgers are in general distrustful and suspicious. If a fish

porter--a good number of these men were here--was warned after any

misconduct, he would turn to one of his pals and say--"Billingsgate, I

see, is not favoured in this place." And if a paper-seller--of which

there were about an equal number--was called to account in the same

way, his remark would be that had he been a fish porter the misconduct

would have been overlooked. Such was the state of feeling in the

Farmhouse, although the caretaker, time after time, almost daily,

reiterated the remark that one man was as good as another, and that no

distinction was made between the two classes. Knowing this state of

feeling, and the child-like distrust and jealousy of these honest

fellows, it was no wonder that I felt a little awkward at the change

of circumstances; for, after all, I was still a lodger, and paying no

more than them for the same conveniences. In spite of this, I don't

believe I suffered the least in popularity when the Manager,

determined that I should not suffer any longer for want of privacy to

pursue my aims, threw open his own private rooms for my convenience.

And, every time I took advantage of his kindness, the Manager's wife

would take advantage of this by supplying a hot dinner or tea, as the

hour might be, so that my studies might not be interrupted, or food

postponed through an anxiety to perform a certain task.

 

The Manager was astonished at my success, and, after he had read

several notices, it certainly must have made him bitter against those

whom he had approached on my behalf. "Yes," he said, "I must confess

to failure, in your case, and I am left wondering as to what kind of

cases these people consider worthy of assistance." The man, being in a

subordinate position, dare not openly speak his thoughts, or appear to

force the hands of those rich visitors, but he certainly lost no

opportunity in showing some honest Irish blood in his references to

the Charity Organisation. "Miss So and So has been here," said he, one

morning; "and I lost no time in relating your experience with the

Charity Organisation. She was very much offended and shocked, and she

has now gone there to seek some explanation." "As for that," I

answered, knowing these people had all the power to make good their

own case, and that I would not be called upon to sift the false from

the true--"As for that, this lady will return satisfied, as you will

see." The Manager did not altogether believe this, saying that he

thought the lady in question was not a blind believer in anything, and

had an unusual amount of common sense. She certainly did return

satisfied, saying that she thought they were justified in their

conduct, to a certain extent. On being questioned by the Manager, who

claimed it justice that the truth should be known, she said that she

dare not make public the sayings and doings of the Society. I am now

giving my experiences honestly and truthfully, and thought for

thought, if not word for word, as they happened. As a man whose

ambition above all other things is to impress every one favourably, I

have come to the conclusion that my work has been praised far more

than its worth, owing to having met the writers of some of those

articles, and impressing them in a simple, honest way. I am writing

these experiences with a full knowledge of human nature, knowing that

many people will remark: "Take no heed of that man, for he has not a

good word for any one or anything;" but, as far as my knowledge and

experience goes it is the truth, and, if that seems false and

sensational, it is no fault of mine. Certainly I have led a worthless,

wandering and lazy life, with, in my early days, a strong dislike to

continued labour, and incapacitated from the same in later years. No

person seemed inclined to start me on the road to fame, but, as soon

as I had made an audacious step or two, I was taken up, passed quickly

on from stage to stage, and given free rides farther than I expected.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXXIV

 

A HOUSE TO LET

 

 

Apparently the ill luck which had pursued me so close in the past,

would not let me escape without another scratch. In my pleasant walks

in my native town, my eye happened to fall on a beautiful house,

untenanted in a neighbourhood so quiet that every other house seemed

to be the same. The very name, Woodland Road, was an address for a

poet. It was a four storied villa, standing on the top of a hilly

road, from where one could see on a clear mistless day the meeting of

the Severn and the Bristol Channel; and, looking in another direction,

could see the whole town without hearing one of its many voices.

Unfortunately, I coveted this house as a tenant, thinking to get more

pleasure in one glance from its top window on a bright summer's

morning than from the perusal of many books. Even now, in Winter, it

presented a warm, comfortable appearance, with its evergreens and its

ivied walls. A tall, spreading rose bush stood facing its lowest

window, and I imagined the bashful red roses looking in at me, as

though I would not come out of doors to please them. There were

primrose leaves green on the rockery, and one yellow flower still

stood, withered and bent, in this last week of November. There was

also an apple tree and a pear tree, so that the front of the house was

both a park and an orchard. Blackbirds, robins, and thrushes visited

the grounds daily; and I believe that this house was their nearest

approach to town. It only wanted a few touches of Spring, and here

were shady nooks, and leafy boughs for birds to sing unseeing and

unseen. Thinking that this beautiful place would not remain untenanted

for long, I at once made application, being recommended by my old

master of the days of my apprenticeship. Had I known that the house

was always empty and untenanted, and that people came and went at

short notice, I should certainly not have been in such a hurry to take

possession, in spite of its natural beauties. It was neither haunted

by ghosts nor animal noises, but by the landlady, who lived in the

next house. This lady I did not see, nor have I seen her up to the

present time, one of my family having taken the place in my name.

Probably if I had transacted business personally, and had had an

opportunity of seeing this landlady's face, I had not coveted the

house, and, according to a right judgment of human nature, would have

saved myself the money and disappointment that was to follow.

However, the house became mine, and I received the key which was to

let me possess this house and its interesting grounds.

 

I idled a week about town descanting with great pleasure on the

beauties of my future home; but I was somewhat taken by surprise at

the unfavourable reception with which my news was received. "Who is

the landlady?" asked one. "Mrs. S," I answered; "she lives next door."

"It is very unfortunate," said this person, "that the landlady lives

next door." "Every one can please themselves," said another, "but as

for myself, I would never dream of living next door to my landlady."

"What": cried another, "the landlady lives next door? What a great

pity, to be sure." Although the last named depreciator was the

respectable wife of a retired tradesman, and had given her own

landlady satisfaction for a number of years; in spite of this, I was

highly amused at these remarks, taking the uncharitable view that

these people were really not so respectable as they seemed, and would

not be allowed to live under the watchful eyes of a particular person.

My landlady, I thought, be she ever so watchful, dare not interfere

without some cause; and, as the house must needs be kept very quiet

for my own purpose of study, noises that are not allowed to reach me

in the same house, surely will not be able to reach the house next

door.

 

The eventful day arrived, and I gathered together my small family, one

from her limited possession of two small rooms, being very pleased to

have me with her, which could not otherwise have been. At last we were

in full possession, and at once proceeded to arrange the furniture,

and to make the house comfortable. On the second day I began to work

in earnest, having been unsettled and indisposed for several weeks.

When I came downstairs to dinner, on this second day, I was informed

that the landlady had already been there to say that she objected to

us keeping animals. On being told there was not the least intention of

doing the same, she said that she certainly thought such was our

intention, seeing that we were in possession of wood, and that she

strongly objected to any other than that which could be kept indoors.

The wood, which had caused all this suspicion, was simply a clothes

prop and three shelves which had not yet been removed from where they

were first placed. I laughed heartily at this unwarranted

interference, but the feminine portion of the family strongly resented

it.

 

The third day I continued my work, the others again working on the

comfort of this large house; one being outside trimming the

evergreens, and taking a general pride in our half orchard and half

park. Ditto the third day, and so on day after day, until the rent

became due. This was the first time for me to take a personal hand in

my affairs, and, when the agent called, I thought it more business

like to put in an appearance, for the first rent day, at least, seeing

that the house was in my name, after which others might attend to it.

I paid the rent, 9s. 6d.--the house, as I have said, was a fine large

villa, and was really worth fifteen or sixteen shillings a week; and

this small amount demanded for it, was a mystery at which any sensible

person would have sniffed. This agent then gave me a book, with the

rent entered to my account. After this he handed me a letter, which,

said he, was sent from the office. Not dreaming of its contents, I

there and then opened this letter, and to my astonishment saw that it

was a notice to quit within one week of that date, at the orders of

Messrs. H. and B., her solicitors. This notice was a severe blow, for,

up till then, the place had been unsettled, and we had only been

enjoying the expectation of future comfort. "Who, or what does this

lady object to?" I asked the agent, with some bitterness. "I need

absolute quiet for my work, and the amount I have done in the past

week proves that I have had it. What then has disturbed my landlady,

that has not interfered with my work? To make a person suffer the

expense, and worse, the worry of moving twice in a few days, should

not be done without due consideration, and some definite reason." But

the agent knew or pretended to know nothing of the affair, and he

left me at the door, feeling more shame and mortification than I have

ever felt before. There was nothing else to do but to pack up again as

soon as possible and to seek fresh quarters, which, after great

difficulty, were found.

 

To think that I have lived thirty-five years, and not to have known

the folly and ill policy of living next door to one's landlady! But

this particular landlady is eccentric, can afford to be independent,

and I verily believe she would not sell a house for even twice its

worth if she thought the would-be purchaser to be a man incapable of

taking charge of property. Her house is more often unoccupied than

let, as I have since been told, for the most respectable people cannot

live near her. Apparently this is the case, for the house was still

empty several weeks after I had quit, in spite of its unreasonably low

rent and the beauty of its surroundings.

 

A robin came to the back door every morning and was fed. Perhaps this

time wasted on the robin might have been better employed in winning

the good graces of the landlady.

 

What a pity such an eccentric person should have such power to receive

people as tenants for a few days, and then to dismiss them without

warning or giving any definite reason. And what a harvest her

idiosyncrasies must be to her solicitors. They even followed me up and

demanded another week's rent, after the expense of moving to the top

of a high hill and down again, which, up to the present, I have not

paid. A lawyer would certainly be a lucky man to be allowed control

over the interests of half a dozen such clients, and he could dress

his wife and daughters in silk, and thoroughly educate his sons on his

makings. I have been told that she is a deeply religious woman. Therefore, although she said in her own heart--"on no account can these people live in a villa of mine," she must have prayed that room would be reserved for us in the many mansions above.