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 AVIES
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 THE TRUE TRAVELLER
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 A WEAK WOMAN : A Novel 
 
 BEGGARS 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A 
 SUPER-TRAMP • 
 
 THE SOULS DESTROYER AND 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 NATURE POEMS, AND OTHERS 
 
 FAREWELL TO POESY 
 
 SONGS OF JOY, AND OTHERS
 
 THE 
 
 TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 J^ By 
 
 W. H, DA VIES 
 
 Author of "The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp" 
 
 LONDON 
 
 DUCKWORTH & CO. 
 
 3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN 
 
 1912
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PACE 
 
 First Adventures . . . . . . i 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 Bourbon and Duke . . . . . 8 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 The SOUP-KlTCHEN . . . . . , 17 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 The Woman in the Woods . . . . 26 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 The Nurse . . . . . . . 45 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 Back in Baltimore . . . . 56 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 In Glasgow . . . . . . . 80 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 A Night Out . . , ... 90 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 A Strong Woman . . . . 100 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 Blackmail . . . . , . . in
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Religious Beggar . . • . . 125 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 My Disgrace . . • ... 146 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 Yank . . . . . • . . 171 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 House-Calling . . . • . . 182 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 Spring Cleaning . . . . . . 192 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Jack the Giant-Killer . . . . . 205 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 The Simple Life . . . . 212 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 A Shock: ....... 224 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 15 ACK IN London ...... 229 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 Thieves in a Lodging-house . . . . 243 
 
 CHAPTER .\XI 
 Mad Kitty ....... 260 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 The Finder .... 
 
 -/3 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 The End . . . . . . . 286
 
 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 I 
 
 First Adventures 
 
 I DON'T know what it is that has always 
 attracted me to ill-dressed people and 
 squalid places. The man that interests me 
 is not the one dressed in the height of fashion, 
 but the bearded man who is wearing three 
 common, dirty sacks; one wrapped and tied 
 around each foot, and the other used as a 
 shawl around his neck. 
 
 The very first time that I left home, and 
 went to work at Bristol, I soon found my 
 way into the worst quarters of that city. At 
 that time I had little knowledge of life, and 
 I was served a nice little trick, which is so 
 plain to me in these days, but which I was 
 then too innocent to see through. I was in 
 a place called " The Pity," perhaps the worst
 
 2 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 slum in Bristol, and seeing a low, dirty-look- 
 ing tavern, I made up my mind to see the 
 inside of it. I had very little fear, but being 
 too well dressed for that neighbourhood, I 
 felt rather shy when I entered and found the 
 place occupied by three slatternly women. 
 However, I gave the landlord my order and 
 was served with every politeness. While I 
 stood at the bar, I could not help noticing 
 that the three women began to whisper, and 
 that the landlord had gone into a back room. 
 In spite of his absence, I stood quite uncon- 
 cerned until I became conscious that the 
 three women were silent. This silence con- 
 tinued so long that I became unnerved, and 
 could not help looking at them to see what 
 they were doing. When I turned my head, 
 I saw that the three of them were looking 
 straight at me, and this made me more con- 
 fused. At last the first woman said, looking 
 from me to one of her friends, " The very 
 image ! I can see the likeness." And then 
 the second woman said, with emphasis, 
 " Mary Price, it is your son ! " Hearing 
 this the third woman struggled to her feet 
 and made a rush towards me. Before I
 
 FIRST ADVENTURES 3 
 
 could utter a word her two arms were around 
 my neck, and she was crying in a shrill voice, 
 " My son ! my son ! my son ! " After much 
 difficulty I got free, and then began to tell 
 her that she was mistaken, and that my 
 mother was not only alive, but that I had 
 only just left her. I had much sympathy 
 with the poor woman in her disappointment, 
 and paid for a drink for her and her com- 
 panions. But they still persisted in saying 
 that I was so much like Mary Price that it 
 was very strange if we were not mother and 
 son. Hearing them continue in this way 
 alarmed mc ; for in my innocence I thought 
 she would call a policeman, and the latter 
 would have power to make me go home with 
 her. Thinking of this I prepared to leave, 
 but had scarcely made one step before one 
 of the women — the first that had spoken — 
 stood between me and the door. " Ah," she 
 said, " this poor woman is in trouble. If she 
 fails to get five shillings before twelve o'clock, 
 for her rent, she will be turned out, and have 
 no home at all. We thought you were her 
 son, who has been lost for eight years. Now, 
 be a son to this poor woman, and God bless
 
 4 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 you!" I lost no time in giving her the five 
 shiUings, and felt glad to escape at such a 
 price. These women were more likely to be 
 slum dwellers than wandering beggars— too 
 poor to be able to buy drink, but full of artful 
 tricks to get it. 
 
 It was at this time that I had my first 
 experience of a common lodging-house. I met 
 a strange man in the street, and inquired of 
 him as to where I could get cheap lodgings. 
 Now, I had a pound or more in my pocket, 
 and seeing that I had work to go to on the 
 following day, there was no necessity for going 
 into very cheap lodgings. But knowing that 
 the man was a complete stranger to me, I, 
 after paying for a drink for him, came to the 
 conclusion that he ought not to be trusted 
 too much, and therefore told him that I had 
 very httle money. In this I did wrong, for, 
 according to my after experience of him, he 
 was an honest working-man, who was then 
 out on strike and receiving strike pay. 
 Naturally the man thought I was almost 
 penniless, so, leading me farther into the 
 slums, he entered a dark, dirty-looking old 
 door, without knocking, and I then found
 
 FIRST ADVENTURES 5 
 
 myself in a common lodging-house kitchen, 
 where a number of ragged men and women 
 were seated on forms. The landlady came 
 forward at once, and my new friend had a 
 few minutes' quiet conversation with her and 
 then left, telling me that I would be all right. 
 No doubt it was through his introduction that 
 I was treated with great respect and no one 
 tried to rob me. I stayed in that common 
 lodging-house for over a week, and then the 
 dock labourer, who lived near, asked me if I 
 would like to lodge at his house, to which 
 I moved that very night. 
 
 At this time I had no notion and no interest 
 as to how my fellow-lodgers lived, but I was 
 soon to be enlightened. For after I had 
 settled with the old dock labourer, and had 
 made a number of friends in young mechanics, 
 whom I would meet at night in various 
 taverns — it was then I would be confronted 
 by the inmates of that lodging-house. While 
 we would be seated, drinking and smoking, 
 all well-dressed young mechanics, one of these 
 ragged men would enter with laces or studs, 
 sometimes with nothing, and beg of us. I need 
 hardly say that they knew me at once, but
 
 6 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 would show no recognition, except that they 
 would approach me first to set an example in 
 charity. One night an old man named 
 Harrigan came into a place where I was, and 
 seeing me there, came forward at once. So I 
 took off my hat and made a collection for him, 
 and he left, giving me a knowing wink. Of 
 course, my companions had no idea that I 
 knew the man. But this happened so often, 
 for all these rascals remembered me, that I 
 have often been surprised that my com- 
 panions did not guess that I had some personal 
 knowledge of these ragged men. It would 
 never occur to them, seeing me there, looking 
 so young and fresh and neatly dressed, that I 
 had ever entered a common lodging-house 
 and mixed with such men as those. 
 
 That common lodging-house had the usual 
 strange characters, pathetic and humorous, 
 although I was only there a few days and was 
 too young to study them. But I remember 
 well one man, who was a terrible drunkard, 
 and yet every night saved one halfpenny for a 
 clean paper collar. Before my arrival he was 
 the only man in the house that wore a collar, 
 all the others wore scarves. Although he
 
 FIRST ADVENTURES 7 
 
 could not afford blacking for his boots, or a 
 halfpenny for a pair of laces or a piece of soap 
 to wash himself, he must have a clean paper 
 collar every morning. This man was supposed 
 to be a great scholar, and he made a few 
 pennies every day by writing letters for people 
 that could not read and write, or were poor 
 at it. Every once now and then he used to be 
 visited by a fine lady, and it was always 
 noticed that he drank heavily for a week after, 
 and was free with money. The landlady could 
 get no information from him, but told me 
 that she believed the lady was his mother, 
 for they looked very much alike ; and that 
 the son had been cast adrift by the father ; 
 and that the mother, more forgiving, paid 
 these visits without his knowledge. No doubt 
 this was so, for I have known quite a 
 number of cases of this kind ; of sisters or 
 mothers quietly assisting brothers or sons 
 that have gone wrong and been banished 
 from the thoughts of the male part of a 
 family.
 
 II 
 
 Bourbon and Duke 
 
 IT was when I left my job at Bristol and, 
 after a few weeks' idleness at home, went 
 in my twenty-first year to London, where I 
 soon became penniless — it was then that I 
 began to meet with strange characters. The 
 very first man that drew my attention, when 
 I entered a common lodging-house kitchen, 
 was one of the strangest characters I have 
 ever met. He was one of those men — I have 
 met quite a number in my day — who were 
 quite justified in not slaving for other people ; 
 whose spirits are too proud, with just cause, 
 to call other men masters. I met him in a 
 common lodging-house kitchen in Blackfriars 
 Road, when he was toasting a red herring and 
 drawing a comparison between the blood of 
 our English nobility and that of the Bourbons, 
 in favour of the latter, for he claimed to be 
 one of them. He claimed to have in his 
 
 8
 
 BOURBON AND DUKE 9 
 
 veins the best blood of the Bourbons, and to be 
 descended from them in a direct hne. He 
 was a printer by trade, but of course he only 
 did a few small odd jobs, two or three a week, 
 so as to be able to get the common necessaries 
 of life. The man not only had this particular 
 blood in his veins, but he felt it, and day and 
 night it foamed and dashed against the hard 
 rock of necessity, and was forced back into 
 the tide of common humanity. Is it to be 
 wondered at that such a man as this should 
 object to steady work, and should show such 
 disgust when he heard others talk of nothing 
 else ? Could a man like this be expected to 
 work for a master ? I remember him well, and 
 will give an instance of another man that was 
 in something like the same position. 
 
 One winter's night, when I was without 
 money in London, I determined to enter a 
 workhouse for the first time. So I got in hne 
 at the door, with some half a dozen other men 
 in want, waiting for admittance. We did not 
 know one another and had very httle to say, 
 each man being too much taken up with his own 
 affairs. At last the door opened, and we were 
 to be admitted one by one, an official taking
 
 lo THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 our names. I happened to be the last man 
 in the row, for I had not even yet made up my 
 mind to enter. The first man gave his name 
 as John Smith — most Hkely assumed — and 
 after a few more questions John Smith was 
 allowed to pass in for the night. " Name ? " 
 asked the official of the second man. " The 
 
 Duke of M ," answered the man boldly. 
 
 " Name ? " cried the official again, speaking 
 this time in a hard, clear voice. " The Duke 
 
 of M ," answered the man for the second 
 
 time. " I ask you your name," roared the 
 official, losing his temper altogether. " I have 
 told you twice," answered the man, losing his 
 
 temper also. " I am the Duke of M ." 
 
 The man had scarcely uttered this name for 
 the third time, when I felt my balance lost in 
 a struggle, for the irritated official was taking 
 hold of the Duke and throwing him into the 
 street. This he succeeded in doing, and 
 returned to us with the remark that no Dukes 
 were wanted there, and that it was not the 
 first time for him to be pestered by this one 
 in particular. It was at this stage that I made 
 up my mind to walk about all night rather 
 than enter a workhouse. So I walked away.
 
 BOURBON AND DUKE ii 
 
 leaving the Duke in the open road, where he 
 stood cursing all workhouses and invoking 
 their guardians to appear and judge between 
 him and their official. As I have said, each 
 man was so taken up with his own affairs, 
 that I should not be able to recognize the 
 Duke if I met him again. 
 
 Some time after this, when the trees in 
 London were beginning to leaf, and the 
 sparrows were becoming more active and 
 noisy in the spring sunshine, I made up my 
 mind to leave London for the summer months 
 and get the benefit of fresh air and green 
 scenery, if little else. For spring sets our 
 thoughts to wander, and it is often as much 
 as men can do to prevent their limbs from 
 following. I felt drawn towards the West of 
 England, and it was not long before I was 
 walking rapidly in that direction, and leaving 
 the city behind me. I had several strange 
 companions on the road at different times, 
 who had branched off in other directions, 
 leaving me to go on alone. 
 
 One day, on leaving the town of Swindon, 
 I overtook a man who said he was going my 
 way for the next eighty miles. In the course
 
 12 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 of conversation he told me that he was the 
 rightful heir to a large estate, and that he was 
 then on his way to take possession of it. Once 
 or twice it occurred to me that I had heard 
 the man's voice before, but on a careful study 
 of his features, I became thoroughly satisfied 
 that we had never met. He was a short, 
 thick-set man, apparently past middle life, 
 but active and sturdy. He ca^rried a rough 
 stick cut from the hedge, which he did not use 
 in walking, but carried like a club, as though 
 in constant expectation of having to use it on 
 someone's skull. We talked of London and 
 many other things, and at last I so won his 
 confidence that he began to relate his own 
 private affairs. He had a very rambling and 
 incredible story to tell : of how he was the 
 lawful heir to a large estate in the West of 
 England, and how he had been kidnapped in 
 his youth and sent abroad ; the great number 
 of ups and downs he had had, until he landed 
 in London, where he had managed to hve 
 somehow — he could not say exactly how — 
 for a number of wretched years ; but that he 
 could no longer continue such a life, and was 
 now going to claim his lawful rights. " Yes,"
 
 BOURBON AND DUKE 13 
 
 he cried savagely, standing in the road and 
 brandishing his stick. "Yes, it is I that am 
 
 the true Duke of M , and the other man 
 
 is an impostor." 
 
 Sure enough this man was the Duke, who 
 had not only been refused admittance to a 
 common workhouse, but had been dismissed 
 with force. The man looked so savage at this 
 moment, as he stood in the road, clutching 
 his heavy stick, that I felt uneasy at the 
 thought of travel hng with him. So I made 
 my way towards a shady tree, telHng him 
 that I was tired and needed rest and sleep. 
 " All right," he answered ; " good-bye." 
 Saying this he continued his journey alone, 
 and never once turned his head either to the 
 right or left. 
 
 I never saw this man again, but it was not 
 long before I heard of him. Some time after, 
 when I was settled in comfort for a week or 
 two and was reading a daily paper, I came 
 across a paragraph that deeply interested me. 
 It gave an account of how a strange man was 
 arrested for stealing an axe and cutting down 
 
 some young trees on the Duke of M 's 
 
 estate. He claimed that he had a right to do
 
 14 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 what he liked with his own property, and 
 threatened death to anyone that interfered 
 with his actions. However, after much trouble 
 he had been disarmed — more by strategy than 
 force — and arrested. That was the last I ever 
 
 heard of the rightful Duke of M . 
 
 Now, here were two men, one descended in 
 a direct hne from the Bourbons, and the other 
 being the rightful owner to a great title and 
 estate — could we expect men like these, with 
 such proud blood in their veins, to give their 
 minds and bodies to the service of a common 
 master ? As a rule masters are too over- 
 bearing, and men with proud spirits cannot 
 put up with them. The worst masters are 
 those who have been workmen themselves. 
 They know far too much, and they have been 
 heard to say that bread and cheese is good 
 enough for any working-man, as they them- 
 selves had to be satisfied with in their own 
 early days. Sometimes they go so far as to 
 set an example with their own hands, and 
 working-men never like that, much preferring 
 a gentleman master who has no practical 
 knowledge of work, and either walks past or 
 stands as an interested spectator.
 
 BOURBON AND DUKE 15 
 
 I once worked half an hour for a man in 
 America, and was then compelled to discharge 
 myself, owing to his greed for work. Some- 
 thing occurred to make me laugh, and, to my 
 surprise, he came running into the room and 
 said, " If I hear you laugh again I will dis- 
 charge you." On hearing this I at once 
 demanded my wages, which amounted to 
 about seven cents, being threepence halfpenny 
 in English money. He had no change, and 
 being too mean to give me a ten-cent piece 
 (fivepence), tried to discharge me with a five- 
 cent piece (twopence halfpenny). After much 
 strong language had passed between us, he 
 managed to borrow two cents from the 
 errand-boy, and I then left with my full 
 wages. I was determined, after this experience, 
 never to work for a master again unless he 
 could give good references. 
 
 But I never knew that masters were so 
 cunning and avaricious until I noticed a card 
 in a shop-window. The place was London, 
 and the day was Sunday. I noticed then a 
 dozen or fifteen men looking into a shop- 
 window, some of them laughing heartily. On 
 crossing over to see what was the matter.
 
 i6 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 I then saw a card on which these words were 
 written : "Wanted, a strong boy between the 
 age of twenty-two and twenty-five." *' When 
 I was twenty-five/' said an old man standing 
 near, " I was the father of a family." " And 
 so was I," said another. Just then two lovers 
 passed, and stood to read the card. A painful 
 expression crossed the young fellow's face 
 when he had read that advertisement, for he 
 was being called a boy in the presence of his 
 sweetheart, whom he was probably on the 
 point of marrying. 
 
 Yes, here was a master who wanted a man's 
 work done, and yet wanted to pay only a 
 boy's wages, and he had the impudence to 
 advertise his wants in his own shop-window. 
 
 Now, suppose the Duke of M had come 
 
 this way, or the man who had in his veins the 
 best blood of the Bourbons ! These men would 
 most certainly have broken the man's win- 
 dow, and perhaps their leadership would have 
 caused a riot that would have been disastrous 
 to themselves and others.
 
 Ill 
 
 The Soup-kitchen 
 
 JUST after the World's Fair in Chicago there 
 were thousands of men out of work, who 
 
 were either begging at private houses or 
 receiving charity soup at various places. One 
 day a man called Sullivan, whom I knew well, 
 came up to me and said, '* Do you want a bowl 
 of the best soup in the city ? " " Yes," I 
 answered, fiercely and frowning hard, so as to 
 let him know that I wanted the real truth 
 from him. " Yes," I answered, " show me 
 the place." "Very well, then," he said, 
 " follow me, for I am going there now." 
 With these words he started off with quick 
 steps. I at once took several steps, so as to 
 get into his stride, and in a second or two 
 was in full swing with him. Sullivan was not 
 a sociable man, for he had very little to say 
 as we walked along. He had only taken a 
 generous notion to help another to a bowl of 
 
 c 17
 
 i8 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 good soup, and did not want to make a 
 companion of him. For this reason he 
 only acted as a guide on that particular 
 occasion, and did not trouble much whether 
 I followed him or not. Seeing this I made 
 no attempt to be more substantial than a 
 second shadow. 
 
 The first time I had met Sullivan was in 
 Mrs. Flanagan's saloon, where I had gone to 
 get a drink. Mrs. Flanagan, who was a 
 pure woman in spite of her naughty tales, 
 had just finished telling me one of her finest 
 jokes when Sullivan had entered. The joke 
 related to Paddy Maloney and his wife Bridget. 
 One day Paddy reminded his wife that when 
 he first went courting her she had no boots 
 and stockings to her feet, and had little more 
 than her bare legs and a Bible. To which 
 Bridget retorted, " Ah, me foine fellow, if ye 
 had paid as much attintion to me Bible as ye 
 paid to moi bare legs, shure, ye'd be the Pope 
 of Rome to-day." I was laughing heartily 
 over this joke when Sulhvan entered. " Good 
 morning, Mrs. Flanagan," said Sullivan in 
 his oiUest tone, for the landlady was a very 
 outspoken woman, and he did not want to
 
 THE SOUP-KITCHEN 19 
 
 offend her. " Good mawning be damned ! " 
 she snarled, turning on him fiercely. " Good 
 mawning be damned, It's whisky ye're after. 
 Of course Mrs. Flanagan knew well that 
 Sullivan had, as usual, come to beg drink 
 instead of to buy it. 
 
 I would not have followed Sullivan, had I 
 not been impressed with his v/ords, ** The 
 best bowl of soup in the city." For I knew 
 where to get soup in several places, seeing that 
 almost every creed and social body had started 
 a soup-kitchen for the unemployed. Such 
 poverty was quite a new thing in that city, 
 and seeing how liberal Americans are in 
 giving charity, you can imagine how good 
 the soup was. At one place I was given soup 
 made out of haricot beans, which was almost 
 as solid as pudding. Since those days I have 
 had soup in a Salvation Army lodging-house, 
 where I had to pay for it. I considered myself 
 robbed, and was too unforgiving to join the 
 officers when they cried '* Hallelujah ! " It 
 only cost a halfpenny a basin, it is true, 
 but greasy water is dear and a fraud at a 
 farthing a pint. A little meat had been boiled 
 for the staff, and the greasy water had been
 
 20 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 called soup and then sold to the poor lodgers, 
 who were poor indeed. 
 
 It was not long before Sulhvan led me into a 
 narrow alley, which was the back of one of the 
 main streets. Going half-way down this alley, 
 he suddenly stopped at a door which I had 
 seen a man just enter, pushed it open, and 
 walked in, while I followed close at his heels. 
 We were then in a small yard with the 
 back door of a large house straight in front of 
 us. Making his way to this second door, 
 Sullivan, without knocking, opened it and 
 walked in. We were then in a large kitchen, 
 where I saw several men seated at tables, 
 with piles of bread and bowls of soup set 
 before them. Sulhvan took not the least 
 notice of these men, but went straight to 
 another door, which was open, and stood 
 waiting, while I did likewise, standing close 
 behind him. We were hardly there a second 
 when a woman, smiling good-naturedly, came 
 forward with two large bowls of soup, which 
 we took and carried to a table. 
 
 Now while I had been standing at the last 
 door I had seen several women moving about, 
 and what appeared to be strange was that
 
 THE SOUP-KITCHEN 21 
 
 they all, as far as I could judge, were dressed 
 of equal richness. Each one appeared to be 
 the lady of the house, for I saw no sign of 
 aprons or servants' caps. I could not pick 
 out one and say, judging by dress or dignity, 
 "This is a servant," or " That is the mistress." 
 They all appeared to be women of leisure. 
 The one that brought us the soup did not 
 appear to do it as a duty, but because she had 
 been the first to notice us. 
 
 After we had finished our soup and were 
 leaving, I asked Sullivan what kind of house 
 it was, with so many well-dressed women 
 there, and each of a beauty pecuUar to herself. 
 " It is a sporting house," he answered. " How 
 did you like the soup ? " " Very much," 
 I returned. " You can always rely on girls of 
 that kind to do something good and sub- 
 stantial for the poor," he said. " They do 
 not make the soup cold with hymns and 
 prayers. I am glad you enjoyed it." 
 
 No doubt the majority of people will think 
 that a house of this kind would have a selfish 
 motive in giving charity : that these courte- 
 sans would do so with an idea to future profit ; 
 so as to get men to return their way under
 
 22 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 better conditions, when those men would be 
 in work and have monej^ I must confess 
 that, at that time, when I did not know Hfe 
 as I know it now, such cruel thoughts entered 
 my own mind. But since then I know that 
 these women are kind-hearted in the extreme. 
 In fact, not long after this experience, I was told 
 by a mean, unprincipled beggar that the best 
 people to beg from were women of that kind. 
 He said that the first thing he did on entering 
 a strange town was to inquire in what part 
 they lived. For it must be remembered that 
 in America they live in certain streets ; they 
 do not go out looking for men, but men seek 
 them at their houses. I will let you know 
 in a future chapter how much the poor, 
 broken, homeless man in London is beholden 
 to this kind of woman for pennies to buy cups 
 of hot tea at night and bowls of hot soup in 
 the day. 
 
 After this visit to a sporting house I left 
 Su]hvan, but met him again a few hours 
 after at a certain mission house where soup 
 was to be had at the end of the meeting. 
 
 As I have said, Sulhvan was not very 
 sociable, but on this particular evening he
 
 THE SOUP-KITCHEN 23 
 
 suddenly became inspired and made one of the 
 most moving speeches I have ever heard. He 
 made a pubhc confession of his sins, which 
 men of SuUivan's type often do, so as to 
 enable them the better to get assistance. On 
 this occasion Sullivan strode on to the plat- 
 form and told the audience that he was not 
 only the worst drunkard in the city, but that 
 he was also a scoundrel and a very dangerous 
 character. He not only said that he had 
 served one long term in prison, but hinted 
 that he had deserved many others for crimes 
 he dared not mention. Of course these were 
 all lies, for Sullivan was really no more than 
 a common, harmless beggar. However, these 
 confessions impressed the rich lady that 
 supported the mission, who was a widow, and 
 who was to be seen night after night on the 
 platform. 
 
 I was very much surprised to see Sullivan, 
 the night after his confession, sitting on the 
 platform and wearing a white collar and a 
 new black tie. 
 
 On the third night he was wearing a brand 
 new pair of boots. 
 
 On the fourth night he was dressed in a new
 
 24 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 suit of clothes, and had a white handkerchief 
 and a pair of hght gloves. 
 
 On the fifth night he was wearing a gold 
 chain. 
 
 On the sixth night he opened the meeting 
 with prayer and then sang a song, the 
 words of which he claimed to have composed 
 out of his own head, to fit an old familiar 
 tune. This song he sang three times in 
 succession, so that the audience should 
 remember it. 
 
 On the seventh night Sullivan was under- 
 stood to be engaged to the rich widow, who 
 was the main support of the mission. 
 
 No doubt, if the truth had been known, 
 that SuUivan had not been so great a 
 drunkard ; that he was not so dangerous a 
 man as he claimed to be ; that he had 
 seldom used bad language ; that he had 
 never served a long term in prison : no doubt, 
 if these truths had been known, he would never 
 have impressed a rich Christian widow, and 
 been made her leading man at home and 
 abroad. It seems strange how easily women 
 are to be caught by lies. I could have picked 
 out more than a score of men that had been
 
 tHE SOUP-KITCHEN 25 
 
 worse than Sullivan. This innocent, confiding 
 woman, deceived by Sullivan's lies that he 
 was a jail-bird and the greatest drunkard in 
 the city, went so far as to offer him her hand 
 and fortune.
 
 IV 
 
 The Woman in the Woods 
 
 SOME time after leaving Chicago, I had a 
 very strange meeting with a woman 
 in the woods of IlHnois, which ended much 
 more pleasantly than it began. I had no 
 money to pay my fare as a passenger, so I 
 had jumped on a fast cattle train that was 
 going west, with the intention of stealing a 
 ride for a hundred miles or more. But 
 unfortunately one of the brakesmen dis- 
 covered me, after I had travelled about fifty 
 miles, and told me that I would have to get 
 off at the first stop. I was quite satisfied to 
 do this, after having ridden so far, and told 
 him I would. Of course I expected the first 
 stop would be at a town, where I could wait 
 for another train on which to try my fortune 
 for the second time. But when the train began 
 to stop and I could see no sign of any house, 
 
 I began to get alarmed. At last the train, 
 
 26
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 27 
 
 which was now going very slow, left the main 
 track and went on to a side one, where it 
 came to a stop. I got off at once and began to 
 look aromid, and then saw that I was in the 
 wilderness, with no idea of the distance to the 
 next town. The next minute a fast passenger 
 train came along, and it was to let that train 
 pass which had caused the cattle train to go 
 on a side track. As soon as the passenger 
 train had passed the cattle train began to 
 move, and it was not long before I was left 
 there alone, amazed and looking after it. 
 This was very annoying, for a dozen trains 
 might pass and not one of them have to take 
 the side track, so that I would have to walk 
 to the next town, which was likely to be 
 from six to ten miles away. While I was 
 thinking of these things, I caught sight of a 
 boy some distance away, who was coming 
 down the railway track in my direction. As 
 soon as I saw this boy I sat down on a sleeper 
 at the side of the track and waited his 
 approach, thinking he would be able to give 
 me all the information I needed. He had 
 something in his hand, which I at first 
 thought was a stick, but when he drew
 
 28 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 nearer I could see that it was a gun. No 
 doubt he was going squirrel shooting, as boys 
 do in that country, and was now making his 
 way to the woods which were near me. 
 
 It was a considerable time before this boy 
 reached my side, for he seemed to have his 
 attention often drawn to sounds around him. 
 However, at last he came, and I at once 
 asked him how far it was to the next town. 
 " It is only about half a mile from here," he 
 answered. "Is it a large town ? " 1 asked. 
 " Oh yes," he answered without hesitation. 
 Of course I knew that it was hardly likely 
 that this boy had ever been very far away, 
 and would therefore have little idea of a large 
 town, so I asked him about how many houses 
 were there. " More than twenty altogether," 
 he said in a proud voice. I now knew that 
 it was only a small village. However, what I 
 wanted to know was whether any trains stopped 
 there, so I asked him that question. " Yes," 
 he said, "there is a coal-shute there, and a 
 water-tank too." When I heard this I was 
 quite satisfied, for I knew that trains would 
 stop there for either coal or water, and that 
 it would be no difficult matter to catch a train
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 29 
 
 there at almost any time. So I thanked the 
 lad for his information, and he went his 
 way. 
 
 At this spot, where I was now sitting, 
 the railway track had been cut through a 
 wood. Seeing this, I thought it a fine oppor- 
 tunity to retire out of sight for a few hours 
 and sleep. I happened to have enough 
 provisions on me for a couple of meals, and 
 as I had had little sleep the night before, I 
 made up my mind to take things easy for 
 a few hours. It was now about noon, and 
 time for dinner. I knew that there would be 
 a tramps' camp somewhere near, seeing that 
 trains came to a stop not far away. So I 
 began to walk up the track towards the town, 
 looking for a path into the woods. It was 
 not long before I saw one and determined to 
 follow it. I entered the woods, and in a little 
 while came to a small open space, where I 
 saw several tin cans in which tramps had made 
 coffee. But I did not know whether they had 
 carried the water all the way from the village, 
 or whether there was a spring in the woods. 
 However, I soon saw another path leading out 
 of the camp, and guessed right that it led to a
 
 30 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 spring. So I filled one of the cans with water 
 and returned to the carnp, where I at once lit 
 a fire and prepared for dinner, after having 
 which I intended to take a few hours' sleep. 
 
 It suddenly occurred to me that this would 
 be a good opportunity to wash my shirt, which 
 could be drying while I slept. The air was 
 warm enough for that, even if I had no fire. 
 So I stripped there and then, and in a pool 
 made by the spring washed my shirt and 
 socks, and soon had them stretched on sticks 
 stuck in the earth within a few feet of the 
 fire. After doing this I made my coffee, had 
 dinner, and lay down to sleep. I made a 
 pillow of my coat, and my arms were bare to 
 the shoulder. However, that did not matter, 
 for I was not likely to be disturbed by any 
 other than a fellow-tramp. Even tramps 
 had not been there lately, which I could tell 
 by certain signs. 
 
 But I could not sleep after all, and was 
 soon sat up in front of the fire, smoking my 
 pipe and thinking of old acquaintances. I 
 must have sat there for over two hours in that 
 way, until about three o'clock, and was getting 
 restless to be either on my travels or visited
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 31 
 
 by human company. However, I did not 
 want to leave my camp-fire and the water- 
 spring until I had had the last meal of the 
 day, which would be about six o'clock, so I 
 lay down to make another attempt to sleep. 
 Whether I should have succeeded or not I 
 cannot tell. All I know is that I suddenly 
 heard dried twigs breaking under someone's 
 feet, so I sat up at once, prepared to greet 
 whoever should come. Of course I did not 
 expect any other than a squirrel-hunting boy, 
 or a beggar that knew the camp, or was looking 
 for one, as I had done. The sound of an axe 
 carries a long way in the quiet woods, and as I 
 had not heard that sound, I knew that there 
 was no woodman within a mile or more from 
 where I was. I was in hopes it was another 
 tramp, for I was in need of a companion, not 
 having had one for several days. The last 
 companion I had had was a Scotchman called 
 Sandy, who had been arrested in Chicago. 
 He had started an argument on rehgion with 
 an Irishman. It was late at night, and the 
 three of us were standing on a street corner. 
 The argument had continued for more than an 
 hour when a policeman came forward and
 
 32 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 told us to go home. The Irishman wished 
 us all good night and went his way, and 
 Sandy and I started off in another direction. 
 However, Sandy took a foolish notion to 
 argue with the policeman, and turned back 
 for that purpose. But the latter did not want 
 to argue, and told Sandy to be gone. Sandy 
 then wanted to know if we were not in a land 
 of free thought and speech. The policeman 
 could make no other answer to this question 
 than by taking Sandy by the collar and 
 making a prisoner of him. And that was the 
 last I saw or heard of my friend Sandy. 
 
 As I have said, when I heard this sound I 
 sat up ready to greet the new-comer, who I felt 
 certain would be a fellow-tramp. But when 
 I could see the new-comer through the trees, 
 I saw, to my horror, that it was not a man, 
 but a woman ! I at once made a grab for my 
 coat, in haste to cover my nakedness. Un- 
 fortunately 1 had turned the sleeves inside 
 out, so as to save the cloth when I lay on it, 
 for the coat happened to be a good one. The 
 consequence of this was that the woman 
 walked into the camp before I could get it on, 
 and while I was still nervously fumbling with
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 33 
 
 it. '* Don't be alarmed, my good fellow," 
 she cried, laughing with amusement; "don't 
 be alarmed, for I am only come to gather a 
 few sticks. But, seeing you here alone, I will 
 now sit down and have a chat with you." 
 Saying this she sat down at the other side of 
 the fire, with her two hands in her lap. I 
 began to get more nervous than ever now, for 
 I saw that she was quite indifferent to 
 arranging her dress, and sat there showing 
 her two legs with the utmost unconcern. I 
 could not help noticing that, although her 
 clothes were of little account, yet, for all that, 
 her boots were hght and good, and she had 
 on a fine pair of stockings, which fitted tight, 
 and were worked in colours. I could also see 
 that she was a fine stout woman of about 
 thirty-five, and one that appeared accustomed 
 to good living. Of course it did not surprise 
 me in the least that such a woman had come 
 to gather a few sticks. She had come not so 
 much on account of economy, but because 
 she had nothing else to do. But what alarmed 
 me was to see her unconcern at the position 
 in which she sat. It suddenly occurred to me 
 that she must be crazy, and that someone 
 
 D
 
 34 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 would soon come looking for her. This was 
 a terrible thought, for I knew that men in 
 that country never went looking for lost 
 people without first arming themselves with 
 guns. And I was very much afraid that, when 
 I was found in this woman's company, they 
 would shoot me without waiting for an expla- 
 nation. They would think that I had met her 
 wandering on the iron track and then decoyed 
 her into the woods. Again, even if they were 
 willing to hear me, there was no accounting 
 for what a crazy woman might say. When I 
 thought of this I got up at once and took 
 hold of my shirt, which had been hanging 
 there dry for a long time. Of course I could 
 not put it on while she was there, so I threw 
 it over my shoulder, with the intention of 
 carrying it a little way until I had a chance 
 to dress. The woman understood my last 
 thoughts and intentions, for she began to 
 laugh, and then said, *' Don't be afraid of 
 me, for I am not afraid of you. Have you 
 just come from Chicago ? " " Yes," I an- 
 swered, lighting my pipe at the fire, for I had 
 no intention of staying any longer, in spite 
 of her cheerful assurance. She was silent for
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 35 
 
 a moment or two, and I was just on the point 
 of saying good-bye, when she said in a clear, 
 distinct voice, " Do you know where Carrie 
 Watson's house is ? " When I heard this 
 question I was astonished and too interested 
 to leave until she had told me more. How- 
 ever, in spite of my burning interest, I was 
 very careful to show none, and answered 
 quietly, " Yes, I know where Carrie Watson's 
 house is." ** If you do," she said, with a 
 laugh, " we can get on very well together, 
 for I lived in that house for over six months. 
 Come and sit at my side as close as you like." 
 This was a bold invitation indeed, and I felt 
 somewhat confused in accepting it. 
 
 The woman she had named, Carrie Watson, 
 was a well-known courtesan, who kept a house 
 in South Clark Street, Chicago. It was a 
 fashionable house, with a large number of 
 women there, and it was not unusual to see 
 a carriage waiting near. It was so well 
 known that it was not necessary for its 
 courtesans to stand in the doorway or look 
 through its windows to attract notice, as 
 they had to do in other houses of that class. 
 It was a quiet looking building, and no
 
 36 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 stranger would dream of the life inside, where 
 a score of beautiful women were wiUing to 
 sell their love to any strange man that had 
 enough money. It was a very respectable 
 sporting house, where a man was as safe 
 from being robbed as at his own home. For 
 that reason there were no disturbances there, 
 and the poUce were never brought to its 
 doors through a man's complaints. In that 
 house the liquor could be drunk without fear 
 of its being drugged, and the women trusted 
 more to the generosity of their visitors than 
 to their own greedy tongues. Knowing this, 
 men who visited the house often would not 
 keep away if they had not so much to spend 
 as when they were there before. 
 
 When I heard this woman in the woods 
 say that she had lived at Carrie Watson's 
 house for over six months, I looked at her 
 with a great deal of interest. I knew that 
 a woman would have to be attractive indeed 
 to hold a place in a fashionable sporting 
 house of that kind. She would not only be 
 chosen for beauty, but for her charm and 
 manners as well. Thinking of this I looked 
 at my fair companion with more interest,
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 37 
 
 and I could then see that she was a fine- 
 looking woman indeed. If she had been 
 dressed in good clothes, she would have 
 looked far different from the common village 
 woman that had come to gather sticks. She 
 was a fine, magnificent looking creature, I 
 could see that now. 
 
 I sat down at her side, with the intention of 
 letting her have her own way, and to take 
 no liberty of my own accord. However, 
 there was no necessity for me to make the 
 least advance, for I was no sooner within 
 her reach than her arms were around me, 
 and I was kissed and hugged until I could 
 not help returning her passion. " I am not 
 particular about gathering sticks to-day," 
 she said at last ; " to-morrow will do for 
 that." 
 
 After a time I asked my strange companion 
 to tell me something of her life, for I was 
 wondering how an attractive woman that had 
 led a gay life in a large city could be now 
 settled in a small village which no doubt was 
 quiet and dull. She only took a few minutes 
 to tell her story, which was quite simple and 
 clear. She was born in the village where she
 
 38 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 now lived, which was about half a mile away, 
 and where she lived until her twenty-fifth 
 year. Then she married a poor man of the 
 neighbourhood, but was sorry for it soon 
 after. They had only been married twelve 
 months when they began to quarrel seriously, 
 and she threatened to leave him. However, 
 they managed to live for three years in that 
 way until one night he struck her. There 
 were no children to grieve over, so she left 
 the house the next morning and went to 
 Chicago. As soon as she arrived there she 
 went to a music-hall. While she was there 
 she got into conversation with a woman she 
 sat next to, and told her her history. This 
 city woman had a good look at the fine- 
 looking countrywoman at her side, and then 
 made an offer to introduce her to a sporting 
 house, which the countrywoman, having had 
 several drinks, accepted with thanks. So 
 they both left the music-hall together, and it 
 was not long before the both of them were 
 in Carrie Watson's house, where the city 
 woman was a courtesan. This country- 
 woman stayed there over six months, and 
 then, being tired of a fast life, and having
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 39 
 
 saved a little money, returned to her hus- 
 band. He was very glad to see her again, 
 so she settled down with him to a quiet life, 
 without letting him know the life she had 
 led while she was away from him. 
 
 When she had finished her story it must 
 have been about five o'clock, and I told her 
 that however much I enjoyed her company, 
 she must leave, or someone would come 
 looking for her. So she left, saying she 
 would like to meet me again some day in 
 the future. 
 
 It was a most extraordinary thing to meet 
 a woman of that kind in the woods, far from 
 any large town, and I often think of it now. 
 For this woman was so loving that, although 
 I was a complete stranger, she could not 
 help making herself a sweet nuisance, and 
 I was very sorry to see her go. 
 
 For over three weeks after this I worked on 
 a fruit farm, and finished the job with fifty- 
 three dollars in my pocket. With this sum 
 I made my way towards St. Louis, deter- 
 mined to have a few days' pleasure. I was 
 well accustomed to beating my way on the 
 trains, so that it cost me nothing to reach
 
 40 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 St. Louis, although that town was two hun- 
 dred miles from where I had worked. I 
 reached it in a couple of days, having spent 
 only a dollar on the way, which was for food. 
 I knew St. Louis fairly well, having been 
 there several times before, and had no need 
 to question strangers as to where to get what 
 I wanted. The Levee, which was down at 
 the waterside, being the Mississippi embank- 
 ment, would be a fine place to see life and 
 spend money. It was a free and easy place, 
 where the police allowed more liberty than 
 in any other part of the city — street fights 
 were common. 
 
 At this time I was very careful of myself, 
 only drinking enough to keep myself cheerful 
 and to see the inside life of the different 
 saloons. Some of the drinking-houses had 
 white men and others had black, for no land- 
 lord could cater for both, seeing that his 
 customers would not mix. It was a southern 
 town, and the colour line was never allowed 
 to go slack. 
 
 As I was walking along a woman came to 
 the door of a house and, seeing me passing 
 close, asked — " Have you come to have your
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 41 
 
 fortune told ? " "I have," was my answer, 
 wanting a new experience. " How much 
 do you charge ? " " Only half a dollar," 
 she said. This was not much, and I was 
 always a fool with money, so I followed her 
 into the house. When we were inside a 
 room, she motioned to a seat, and I sat 
 down. As soon as I was seated she brought 
 another chair and sat close to me. She was 
 a fine-looking woman, with large dark eyes 
 and small white teeth. Her skin was dark, 
 and I judged her to be either Spanish or 
 Italian. However, she spoke good English, 
 and appeared to have no difficulty in finding 
 words to express her thoughts. I could not 
 help being affected at being so near a beautiful 
 woman as that, in spite of her cold ease. 
 
 I was surprised more than once at the 
 truth of her words. For it was not long before 
 she had taken my hand and began comment- 
 ing on its lines. After that she told my 
 fortune by the cards, telling me, before they 
 were cut, to wish for something. Now, what 
 could I wish for ? Here was a fine, beautiful 
 woman sitting near me, with no one else in 
 the house, that I knew of — what could I wish
 
 42 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 for ? I must confess that I stood in some 
 awe of her, and yet I had the courage to 
 make a certain wish. 
 
 After the cards had been spread she began 
 to tell me something of my future, which 
 could be believed or not, but not contra- 
 dicted. However, she told me one thing that 
 surprised me very much, which was that I 
 would return to my own country and make 
 a name for myself. If she had predicted 
 wealth, as all fortune-tellers do, I would not 
 have been surprised. This woman seemed to 
 know that even that very day I had been 
 indulging in ambitious dreams, in which 
 common money played no part. After telhng 
 me this she rose, and I judged the interview 
 to be over. I felt quite satisfied, especially 
 as she had touched a part of my future that 
 tallied with my ambition. 
 
 I had forgotten all about my wish, but 
 before I had gone three steps it suddenly 
 occurred to me. So I turned around and 
 faced her again, where she stood standing in 
 the middle of the room. " What about my 
 wish ? " I asked, laughing and turning red. 
 I was in great confusion now, for I did not
 
 THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS 43 
 
 want her to know my wish unless she was a 
 woman to gratify it. And yet, for all that, it 
 was necessary that she should know it, if I 
 was to be gratified, for I dare not mention it 
 openly. So I thought there would be no 
 harm in risking that question, and asked the 
 second time, seeing that she was slow to 
 answer — " What about my wish ? " " Oh, 
 your wish," she said, looking at me sternly ; 
 " how dare you mention it, you wicked man ! 
 This is how I answer it " — the next instant 
 she had a dagger pointed at my heart. When 
 I saw this I was filled with confusion. How- 
 ever, in spite of the drawn dagger and the 
 sparkling of her white teeth, she did not look 
 evil in any way. In fact, I thought there was 
 a good-natured smile in her eyes. I came to 
 the conclusion that she forgave my wish 
 because it flattered her fine beauty, but that 
 she was not the kind of woman to gratify it. 
 That she knew what I had wished I had not 
 the least doubt. She had told me other 
 things so remarkable, that I believe she could 
 feel my thoughts without looking into my 
 face. 
 
 " I am very sorry to be so wicked," I said,
 
 44 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 as I was leaving ; " but with such a woman 
 so near him a man could not possibly have 
 any other wish." When she heard this she 
 replaced the dagger in her bosom, smiled and 
 bowed, and then said " Good-bye." " Good- 
 bye," I answered, and left the house, dis- 
 appointed that she had been too virtuous to 
 gratify my wish, and pleased to think that she 
 had not put so great a price on her virtue as 
 to think I was a monster of sin, instead of a 
 man of ordinary passion. She had proved 
 that she was a broad-minded woman that 
 understood and could forgive the desires of 
 the flesh. I don't suppose I had been the first 
 by a good number of men that had been 
 tempted by her beauty, and the privacy 
 around, to make a dangerous wish. However, 
 she would have far more women than men 
 as customers, for, it must be remembered, I 
 did not go there of my own accord.
 
 V 
 
 The Nurse 
 
 AT this time I was young, in my twenty- 
 I~\ fifth year, and full of animal Hfe. I 
 had never had any serious illness to remem- 
 ber, and had never heard anyone say that I 
 had been weak and sickly in my early life. 
 An aching tooth, and nothing else, had been 
 the only thing to trouble me. Very well 
 then ; being young and in this fine condition, 
 I was well prepared to enjoy life. But since 
 I had come to manhood, long spells of poverty, 
 due to my own laziness, had saved me from 
 ruining my health. Sometimes I was several 
 weeks, aye, even months without a penny in 
 my pocket, leading the life of a wandering 
 vagrant. For that reason I could not get 
 drink, however much I desired it ; and I 
 could not go with women, however much I 
 inclined to do so. In fact, I owe my present 
 health to two things — innocence of women 
 
 45
 
 46 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 in my early manhood and poverty after that 
 knowledge came. This poverty has been 
 a kind friend, for it has carried me over the 
 most lusty years of my life to the time when 
 I was able to govern my passions. This poverty 
 has not only saved my body, but my mind also ; 
 for I am sure that indulgence has dulled more 
 minds than poverty has. 
 
 Being in this fine state my readers will 
 understand that when I had money, after 
 being without it for some time, I indulged 
 myself so freely that it did not last long. It 
 was a blessing when it was gone and I was 
 poor again. It was a blessing for this reason 
 — I was so accustomed to poverty that it 
 did not trouble me in the least. In fact, 
 I slept on summer nights with more plea- 
 sure under a tree or in a freight car than in a 
 soft bed in a boarding-house ; and the plain 
 food I begged at houses, when I had no 
 money, and ate in the open air, was as 
 much enjoyed as the hot meals I bought at 
 restaurants. 
 
 In about a week my money was nearly all 
 gone, for I only had two dollars (eight 
 shilHngs) left. Thinking to make this sum
 
 THE NURSE 47 
 
 last as long as possible, I gave up drink and 
 slept out. The nights were hot, so I slept 
 on a lumber pile at the waterside. Owing 
 to the hot season I drank freely of the Missis- 
 sippi river. The consequence of this was 
 that I soon had the malaria fever, which is 
 very common in those parts. It must be 
 remembered that I drank the river water 
 as it was, whereas the citizens — whose water 
 supply it was — had it filtered. So it is not 
 to be wondered at that I soon had the 
 malaria fever and began to fear the conse- 
 quence. However, there was not much 
 danger, for even some of the natives, who 
 have lived in that part all their Uves, have 
 a few days' fever every summer, and take 
 little notice of it. The negroes, who are too 
 poor to pay for doctors, and are living far 
 from hospitals, take it as a matter of course 
 and recover without any help from medicine. 
 It is a strange fever ; one minute the sun 
 almost suffocates you with heat, and soon 
 after you are shaking with the cold, in spite 
 of that sun's tremendous heat. The appetite 
 is soon gone and you become weak ; for the 
 little solid food you eat becomes watery in the
 
 48 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 body, and refuses to stay longer than twenty 
 minutes or half an hour. 
 
 When I had had this fever for about three 
 days and saw no sign of recovery, I began 
 to think that something ought to be done. 
 I was almost too weak to walk, but judged 
 that I would have enough strength to reach 
 the hospital. So I pulled myself together 
 and made my way in that direction. After 
 I had walked some distance, I became thirsty 
 again, but I was away from the river and 
 could see no fountain near. However, I still 
 had ten cents (fivepcnce) left, and at once 
 entered a public-house, which happened to 
 be close by. Thinking of the ten cents, the 
 last of my money, I tried to enjoy the humour 
 of my position, saying to myself, " If I die 
 in the hospital, I will leave no money to be 
 quarrelled over, or to tempt thieves." This 
 poor joke made me laugh aloud, but what 
 made me shake was not laughter but fever, 
 for I was now having another bad attack of 
 the cold chills, and my mouth would not 
 keep shut. I felt hke lying down in the street, 
 without a care of who picked me up or what 
 was done with me.
 
 THE NURSE 49 
 
 When I got inside the pubHc-house, 1 
 found the bar quite empty, not even the 
 landlord to be seen. So I rapped on the bar, 
 and the next moment the landlord came out 
 of a room and stood waiting for my order, 
 which was for a glass of whisky. After serving 
 me he lit a cigar and leaned on the bar, and 
 I could see that he wanted someone to talk 
 with. He was a big stout man, with a very 
 good-natured look and, judging by his 
 jewelry and dress, was well to do, in spite 
 of the lack of custom. It was now morning, 
 just after breakfast, and very few public- 
 houses would have customers just then. 
 For at this hour tradesmen would be busy. 
 Moreover, this public-house was not in a main 
 street, although judging by its well-furnished 
 bar, it appeared worthy to be in a better 
 position. In fact, when I got inside I was 
 surprised to see so fine a house situated in a 
 side street. However, I was soon to find out 
 that it had an attraction for certain men 
 not on account of its good liquors, but for 
 another reason which will be seen soon. 
 
 When I picked up the glass of whisky 
 my h.'xnd trembled so much that I could
 
 50 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 hardly convey it to my lips. Seeing this the 
 landlord steadied my hand with his own, 
 and said, " You are in a bad state." " I am," 
 I answered, thinking he knew what was the 
 matter with me. However, he did not, for 
 after puffing a while at his cigar, he said, 
 " Take my advice and don't drink so much. 
 Although I am a landlord of a public-house, 
 I don't like to see so young a man in such 
 a bad condition after drink. Of course it 
 is nothing to do with me, and please don't 
 be offended at my words." I told him I was 
 not offended, and then explained that my 
 condition was not due to drink, but to the 
 malaria fever, which had been on me for 
 several days. When he heard this he apolo- 
 gized for his thoughts and called himself a 
 fool that he had not suspected the truth. 
 " What are you going to do ? " he asked. 
 " You are a stranger in the city, of course, 
 or you would be home and attended to. I 
 don't suppose you have much money either, 
 have you ? " "I need no money," I an- 
 swered, "for I am now on my way to the 
 hospital, where I hope to be cured in a few 
 days."
 
 THE NURSE 51 
 
 While I was saying this the landlord filled 
 my glass again and, filling one for himself, 
 said — " Perhaps another drink will help you 
 on the way, and I wish you good luck. It is 
 a pity you are a stranger here, without friends 
 or relatives to look after you." 
 
 Just at this moment, when we both had 
 the glasses to our lips, a woman appeared in 
 the doorway, facing me but behind the land- 
 lord's back. She looked at me for a moment 
 or two and then called the landlord, who 
 turned at once and followed her back into 
 the room, I could see nothing in this re- 
 lating to myself, and thought she was the 
 landlord's wife wanting to speak to him on 
 other matters. So I finished my whisky and, 
 not wanting to disturb them, walked towards 
 the door. The whisky had certainly given 
 me some strength, which of course was only 
 temporary, and I had no fear but what I 
 could safely reach the hospital now. 
 
 But just as I reached the door the land- 
 lord reappeared and called me back. " The 
 lady wants to speak to you," he said ; ** will 
 you go into the room to her ? " " Cer- 
 tainly," I answered, very much surprised to
 
 52 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 hear these words. So I went around the 
 bar and entered the room, where I saw the 
 lady sitting in a chair, with a book on a table 
 at her side. As soon as I entered she came 
 forward, put her arm around me, and led 
 me to an easy chair. I was astonished at 
 this familiarity, for she was quite a young 
 woman. If she had been old enough to have 
 been my mother, it would not have sur- 
 prised me. However, I took it outwardly as 
 a matter of course, for I was too ill to turn 
 red and look as shy as I felt. 
 
 As soon as I was seated she drew a chair 
 to my side and, taking hold of my hand, 
 said — " I have heard your story, that you 
 are ill and have no friends or relatives near 
 to help you. Will you let me be your friend ? 
 Will you stay here for a few days, until you 
 are strong enough to go ? " " It is very 
 kind of you to make such an offer," I an- 
 swered ; " but why should I ? I have no 
 money to pay you, and no prospect of having 
 any." " No matter for that," she said 
 cheerfully ; " you will be more comfortable 
 here than in a hospital. All you require is 
 a little medicine and rest."
 
 THE NURSE 53 
 
 Now I don't know whether this lady's words 
 had any effect on me or not, but it is most 
 certain that after she had uttered them I felt 
 so weak that it was doubtful whether I could 
 even rise from where I sat. In fact, I felt like 
 faUing across the floor at her feet, and making 
 her responsible for whatever happened after. 
 She must have noticed this change for the 
 worse, for she called the landlord at once. 
 When he came she was standing at my side 
 and had forced my head to rest against her 
 hip. The next moment they were both sup- 
 porting me as I went upstairs, for I knew now 
 that I was too weak to leave the house. In 
 less than five minutes after this I was in bed, 
 in a small, clean, nicely furnished room. In 
 about an hour a doctor came who said that 
 all I wanted was a little medicine and a few 
 days' rest, and I would be all right again. 
 When the medicine came I had not taken 
 more than two doses when I knew that the 
 fever had gone, and that I only had my 
 weakness to recover from. If I had gone to 
 a doctor in the first place, as soon as the 
 fever came on me, and got a tonic, I would 
 not have gone into such a weak condition.
 
 54 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 That first night, when I lay asleep, I woke 
 suddenly, for I felt something touch my 
 brow. When I opened my eyes I saw at 
 once who it was — it was my kind nurse. 
 " Why do you come in the middle of the 
 night ? " I asked. " Why don't you sleep ? 
 You have had enough trouble in the day." 
 " Well," she answered, " I happened to wake 
 and saw that the man I was with was fast 
 asleep, so I thought I would come and see 
 how you were." Thinking she meant her 
 husband, the landlord — although her words 
 seemed strange — I said: "Your husband 
 will be jealous, and I would much rather 
 have gone to the hospital than that should 
 happen, for both your sakes." *' I have no 
 husband," she answered ; "I mean the man 
 who is staying the night with me, as he has 
 done several times before." When I heard 
 this I knew what I had not suspected before, 
 that she was a courtesan and I was in a 
 sporting house. I now remembered that I 
 had heard the voices of other women, who 
 had been out when I had come. I knew, of 
 course, that no respectable women in that 
 country go into pubHc-houses for drink ; but
 
 THE NURSE 55 
 
 I thought my nurse was the landlad}^ and 
 the others her friends come to visit her. 
 It made me feel ashamed of myself for being 
 beholden to the kindness of a woman that 
 earned her living by making a trade of love. 
 On the following morning she came into my 
 room, and was accompanied by two other 
 women. They were all young and good- 
 looking, and the weather being hot, they had 
 nothing on but a loose gown which reached 
 to their ankles. After a few cheerful words 
 the two strange women left, and the one that 
 was my nurse sat at the side of my bed and 
 began to read a book to me.
 
 VI 
 
 Back in Baltimore 
 
 IN two or three days I was able to get up 
 and move about the room. Sometimes 
 my nurse was engaged with a man, and then 
 one of the other women would sit in the room 
 and talk to me. These women could not 
 do enough for me, for they were always 
 bringing in fruit and other tasty morsels. 
 But I was determined to leave the place as 
 soon as I had sufficient strength, for I was 
 ashamed of receiving help in a house of that 
 kind. I could see that the landlord was a 
 good-natured man, and quite willing to allow 
 the women to do as the}* liked. They were 
 far from being rough women, and the men 
 that came to see them were well dressed and 
 gentle in their manners. So that there was 
 never any loud disturbance, in spite of the 
 men being often the worse for drink, and 
 the women also. In fact, I often wondered 
 
 S6
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 57 
 
 whether there was any one in the house at 
 all, so quiet it was. 
 
 On the sixth morning I felt so well that I 
 told them that I was quite fit to travel. 
 They all, especially the one that had been 
 my nurse, tried to persuade me to stay a 
 few more days to make sure of my strength. 
 But I told them no, saving that I would not 
 take advantage of their kindness for one 
 more hour. Seeing that I was determined, 
 my nurse asked me what I was going to do. 
 "I am going to Baltimore," I answered, 
 " and from that port will take a cattle- 
 ship to England." " That being the case, 
 you must have a little money to start with, 
 she said, " and you have none." " No 
 matter," I answered ; "I will get to Balti- 
 more without money, in a very short time." 
 " Yes, it is a good road to ride for nothing," 
 interrupted the landlord ; " the trainmen 
 seldom put men off, so I have heard. But 
 for all that, you must not leave here without 
 a little money, so here is a dollar." Saying 
 this he placed a dollar bill on the table before 
 me. While I was thanking him, the women 
 had also taken their purses from various
 
 58 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 places, one from her stocking, and the other 
 two from their bosoms, and added more. 
 I looked at the money for a long time, not 
 likins: to take it. However, after thev had 
 persuaded me a little more, I took it — three 
 dollar bills and one for two dollars, the latter 
 being on top, and which I had noticed come 
 from my nurse. Before I left, the landlord 
 shook me heartily by the hand, and the 
 women kissed me. My nurse was the last to 
 do so, and gave me a gentle hug. After 
 doing this she turned her back on me so 
 suddenly that I knew she was affected at our 
 parting. As for myself, I did not utter 
 another word, for fear of breaking down, so 
 affected was I at recei\ing so much kindness 
 from people of that kind. 
 
 Wlien I was in the street and began to 
 think of what had happened to me, I felt 
 very much touched. That a woman who was 
 only a courtesan should pay for my board 
 and lodging for a week, personallj- attend 
 to every little want, and should behave like 
 a mother to her sick child — that this should 
 be so touched me to the heart. She had 
 not taken any fancy to my person, for,
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 59 
 
 without seeing what I was Hke, she had 
 made up her mind to befriend me on account 
 of my troubled story. As far as I was con- 
 cerned, she was a pure-minded woman with 
 a heart full of kindness. It mattered nothing 
 to her whether I was young or old, handsome 
 or plain. The only thing that mattered was 
 that I was a sick stranger in need of help. 
 When I thought of that kind heart, and 
 how, when she had lost her beauty and was 
 too old to attract men, she would be without 
 a friend, dying in some low quarter — when I 
 thought of this, the tears came into my eyes. 
 If I had been left a fortune at that moment, 
 I would have returned and offered her a 
 pure married life — so affected was I at the 
 future that lay before her. She only had 
 one other escape, and that was to die young. 
 Most women that lead a life of that kind die 
 while they still have power to attract men, 
 and are saved a cruel old age. In one weak 
 moment these women fell, and they never 
 have the will power to rise again. In spite 
 of this, I had faith in that woman for a better 
 life, if I had had the power to offer her a 
 home.
 
 6o THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 As I walked along I began to wonder what 
 became of the few courtesans that reached 
 old age. Some of them would have saved 
 money and opened houses of their own, 
 which they would fill with young and attrac- 
 tive girls. But others, who had no money 
 saved, would have to die of starvation in 
 some ill-furnished room. In England such 
 women take to selling matches and other 
 things, and begging, and sleeping out. But 
 in America women are never seen doing 
 anything like that. So that when an Ameri- 
 can courtesan becomes old, she must either 
 open a house of her own and employ 
 others, or go into some room and die of 
 starvation. I hoped with all my heart that 
 this woman, who had been so kind to me, 
 would never be in want of a friend to help her. 
 It filled me with pain to think she would 
 become old and poor, and, when dying of 
 starvation, think of those she had befriended 
 in the past, and expect to hear one of them 
 knocking at her door. Perhaps I would be 
 in her mind. When I thought of this, I 
 began to walk faster, thinking to rouse some 
 more cheerful thoughts, for I was making
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 6i 
 
 myself ill again. There was only one way to 
 change this melancholy mood, and that was 
 to have a drink. I could always rely on one 
 drink to make me cheerful, but had to be 
 careful to take no more, because that would 
 have brought my melancholy back stronger 
 than ever. So I entered the first public-house 
 I came to. 
 
 After having had one drink I continued 
 on my way, feeling much more cheerful than 
 before. I now began to enjoy the open 
 air, and every breath that went into my 
 body appeared to give it strength. The sun 
 was very hot, but I walked the shady side 
 of the street and kept cool. It was not long 
 before I was at the yards where the freight 
 trains started from. Just as I arrived, I 
 saw a train ready made up, waiting until the 
 conductor returned with his orders. So I got 
 into an empty car, without being seen by 
 anyone, and in a few minutes the train 
 whistled twice, which was the signal to go. 
 As soon as the train started I felt satisfied in 
 my mind, and sat in a corner of the car and 
 smoked my pipe. However, my thoughts 
 soon returned to the woman I had left, and
 
 62 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 the house she was in, and it seemed Uke 
 leaving home and my mother. I was sorry 
 now, seeing how much my mind had been 
 affected, that I had not gone to the hospital, 
 which I could have left without regret, and 
 forget, as I would be forgotten. 
 
 When I reached Baltimore, I went at once 
 to the cattlemen's office, where I found 
 several of my old acquaintances waiting for 
 ship. I went to see the man in charge, who 
 knew me, and asked him if there was much 
 cattle being shipped. *' There is not," he 
 answered ; " but if you like, I will let you 
 sign articles on the Concordia, which sails 
 for Glasgow in a week's time." " Very well, 
 then," I said ; "let me sail on the Con- 
 cordia." 
 
 On the following morning, which was 
 Sunday, I had breakfast at the office. They 
 did not supply food at that place, only 
 shelter, but I had taken some in the night 
 before. After I had had breakfast I went 
 out for a walk. Now, while I was standing 
 on a street corner, two men came up to me 
 and asked if I knew where they could get a 
 drink, for all the public-houses were supposed
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 63 
 
 to be closed. Of course, any inhabitant of 
 the town would have known of public-houses 
 that opened their side or back doors on a 
 Sunday, but strangers to the town would be 
 too timid to inquire. When I heard this 
 question I looked at the two men and saw 
 that they were well dressed. I judged that 
 they had come to Baltimore for a little 
 gaiety, and to escape the ties of home. In 
 fact, they told me almost at once that they 
 had come from Washington, which was forty- 
 seven miles away. 
 
 I hardly knew how to answer this ques- 
 tion, for I did not know any respectable 
 place to take them to. At last I said, " Are 
 you particular what kind of house it is ? 
 It is likely to be rough and of a low class." 
 " No, we are not much afraid of that," 
 answered one of them. Saying this he smiled 
 and touched his hip pocket, so as to let me 
 know that he carried a revolver. " That 
 being the case," I said, smiling in return — 
 " that being the case, follow me, for I know 
 the locality where a house can be found." 
 Hearing this the two strangers followed my 
 lead. They were both very well dressed.
 
 64 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 and I was poor and shabby, so I preferred 
 to keep ahead of them and pretend I was 
 not in their company. They did not appear 
 to be proud men. but no doubt they under- 
 stood my feelings, and followed some distance 
 behind. 
 
 The only place I could be certain where 
 drinks could be had on a Sunday, was in 
 a low quarter called the Mash Market, and 
 in that direction I started to go. There were 
 quite a number of low public-houses near 
 the Mash Market, and I knew one that had 
 a narrow allev at its side. I thou^^ht that 
 to be a most likely house, although I had no 
 certain knowledge of it. However, we were 
 now in a respectable busmess street, and I 
 knew it was useless to waste time there. If 
 we could not get a drink in the Mash Market, 
 or a street near it, we would not be able to 
 get it an\'^-here, I felt sure of that. Kno\\'in£[ 
 this I made direct for that quarter. 
 
 \Mien we reached the Mash Market, I told 
 the two strangers exactly how much I knew, 
 and they appeared quite satistied to wait 
 patiently until I knew^ something for certain. 
 So I asked them to wait a minute while
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 65 
 
 I went across the :-:.l We vrere r.: :..:.:. 
 the pnblic-house that I Lcid been :.::•;• of, 
 and I could see a rr^an ster-iir:- r. :-'-e ;: 
 
 of the lane. Of ce-arse, I ^:r.y.v .—,.-. -.:_5 rr.^r. 
 had an object in star.-l::-.? there, =.r. : ■ 1- r : 
 idling his time, s: I ^^::: t: ':::::. :: :r.:e. 
 Just before I r : ^ :: i :: 1 '^ '-'^~. :i 
 aside-door::. ::^ .i : t 
 
 public-house. When I sa . :- I telt 1 
 so I winked at the rr. ;.r. r. ::. . rr.er r. _ _ _ 
 my head t: =.:ir ::.- -:^ -C :, ^'i iii-, 
 '* Is it all right ? " " Yes " he answ-: 1 ; t 
 once ; " push the door op-eix and walk =::r - .-: 
 in." Hearing this I returr.ri :: :hr E*::r - rs 
 and told them that I he ! : : ir. 1 : ; ' ; :^ 
 
 the}' could get a drirJ: However, I -. . ^ . . " 
 again that I did n -. :.;: .::._ : l 
 
 house it was, cr./l iJ-i.: ::.-; • vTv r.:: :: 
 blame me if an^-thr-.-' :.: ■ :::.z. "I 
 thought you had £^ _::irr: . .: . n I 
 first spoke to 3'ou/' answered one -:: tleni, 
 " and now I am sure 5-on are all right. But 
 nothing will go wrong, for ".e a.:^ r.:: riarrel- 
 some, and we are not drunii. M rr-ver, 
 we do not intend to stay in the house ver\' 
 long, whether it is good or bad." With this 
 
 F
 
 66 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 understanding we crossed the road, entered 
 the lane, pushed open the side-door and 
 walked into the public-house. 
 
 When we were inside we saw another 
 door, wide open, which led into the bar. 
 Several men were there drinking, and they 
 appeared to be tough customers. However, 
 they had nothing to do with us, and it was 
 not likely we would stay there long enough 
 to get drunk and quarrel with them. As 
 soon as the landlady saw us enter she came 
 forward at once and waited for our order. 
 She looked very much surprised to see two 
 finely-dressed strangers come into her bar, 
 and she knew very well where the money 
 was. For that reason she took no more notice 
 of me, after the first glance, for she under- 
 stood well how matters were. However, the 
 strangers were gentlemen, for they first 
 turned to me and asked what I would like 
 to drink. I told them that I would have 
 lager beer, which I preferred to any more 
 costly beverage. After I had been served 
 they ordered a more expensive drink for 
 themselves, which they drank at one pull, 
 and then ordered more of the same kind.
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 67 
 
 Mine was far too large to drink in that hasty 
 way, so I excused myself, saying that I would 
 have another in a short while. The fact of 
 the matter was that I began to fear for 
 the strangers, and wanted to keep all my 
 wits alive. In less than five minutes they 
 had finished the second drink and were 
 calling for another. This time I accom- 
 panied them, to their pleasure. But before 
 I had drank one-third of my second glass of 
 lager beer, their own glasses were empty 
 again and the landlady was serving them 
 with more. One of them began to be talka- 
 tive now, and entered into conversation with 
 one of the rough strangers there. The other, 
 who seemed to be more quiet and careful, 
 went near ; not so much to join their talk, 
 but to be ready to protect his friend, so it 
 seemed to me, if anything should happen. 
 However, the rough-looking stranger was not 
 quarrelsome or uncivil — no doubt he saw 
 that the strangers were not only rich enough 
 to stand drinks, but were also generous enough 
 to do so. In a few moments one of the 
 strangers, who was tall and thin, and ap- 
 peared more excitable than his companion,
 
 68 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 who was much shorter and stout — in a few 
 moments this well-dressed stranger threw a 
 two-dollar bill on the bar and cried, " Drinks 
 for the house." By this he meant that every- 
 one present should empty their glasses and 
 have them filled again at his expense. This 
 was my third glass of lager in less than 
 twenty minutes, and I was determined it 
 should be my last. Soon after this the place 
 was full of noise, but it was all common talk, 
 for no one appeared in any way angry or 
 contradictory. 
 
 I was leaning on the bar, listening, and 
 looking at the company, when I felt a pres- 
 sure on my arm. Turning at once I saw the 
 landlady's hand there, and she was looking 
 at me with her face smiling. The next in- 
 stant she leaned over and whispered, " Bring 
 them here this afternoon, and I will make 
 things all right with you." Of course I 
 knew her meaning. She wanted to rob the 
 two strangers, either by the help of drugged 
 wine or a couple of courtesans imported from 
 a neighbouring house. The house would be 
 closed in the afternoon, and that would be 
 a fine chance. I gave her a wink to say I
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 69 
 
 would, and then went straight to the side of 
 the stout, quiet stranger, who stood at the 
 side of his excitable and still talking com- 
 panion. " Let us go somewhere else," I said 
 in a low voice. When he heard this he 
 seemed to know there was danger near, for 
 he went straight to his glass, emptied it and 
 started for the door, shouting, " Good morn- 
 ing." '* Wait a minute or two," his com- 
 panion called after him. The short stranger 
 went back at once and whispered in his 
 companion's ear. The latter nodded and 
 asked with a laugh, " Does he know the 
 way ? " " Yes," answered the other, walk- 
 ing towards the door, where I stood waiting 
 for them. But the tall stranger would not 
 come until he had shaken hands with every- 
 one present, and I took that for a sign that he 
 could soon be made an easy victim if he was 
 left to himself. However, he soon joined us, 
 but I am afraid that another drink would 
 have made him troublesome. 
 
 When we were in the street I told the 
 both of them what the landlady had said, and 
 advised them not to go back to that house 
 after I had left them. After telling them
 
 70 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 this I wished them good-bye, but they would 
 not hear of me leaving them so soon. " Stay 
 with us for the day," said the short stranger, 
 " and you will not be sorry for it, for I can 
 see plainly that you are on the rocks. Show 
 us the way to Alice Ann Street." Saying this, 
 he turned to his tall companion and said 
 with a laugh, " If I had not mentioned Alice 
 Ann Street, I could never have got you away 
 from that house." " That is most certain," 
 answered the other ; "let us lose no time in 
 going there now. I hope it is not far from 
 here." 
 
 I gathered from the conversation of these 
 two men that they were not entire strangers 
 to Baltimore ; that they had been there before 
 and knew the names of several places, but 
 had forgotten the way to them. Of course, 
 I knew very well what they wanted, for the 
 street they mentioned was full of sporting 
 houses. The courtesans were of a superior 
 class, the lowest class being at the other end 
 of the town, where the sailors were. " All 
 right," I answered, " if you want to go to 
 Alice Ann Street, follow me ; but be careful 
 of yourselves, or you will be sorry for your
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 71 
 
 visit to Baltimore." " Have no fear for us," 
 said the short stranger. "It is not the first 
 time we have been to such places — we are 
 not innocent farmers." I made no comment 
 on this, but led the way to Alice Ann Street, 
 which was a mile or more from where we 
 were at that moment. 
 
 In about half an hour we entered Alice 
 Ann Street and began to walk down one 
 side of it. It was not long before we saw 
 its character, for almost every window we 
 passed was tapped and, when we looked 
 that way, women were to be seen smiling 
 and beckoning us to come indoors. Most of 
 the women were young and decidedly good- 
 looking, all of them being bare from their 
 heads to where their breasts began to rise. 
 My companions lingered, but they had not 
 the courage to return to any houses they 
 had passed, and needed more encourage- 
 ment than women's smiles behind glass to 
 make them knock at closed doors. As for 
 myself, it was nothing to me, for I had no 
 money and must leave them as soon as they 
 had the companionship of women. I was 
 only acting as a guide for my own pleasure,
 
 72 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 having nothing else more exciting to do, and 
 did not trouble about any reward. 
 
 At last we came to a door that suddenly 
 opened, just as we came in front of it, and 
 the three of us looked inside. When we did 
 we saw a beautiful woman, who made a little 
 cry of welcome, stepped back and invited 
 us in. Of course she had only come to the 
 door to look out, for she could not be going 
 anywhere, seeing that she was in the same 
 half-nude state as those we had seen in the 
 windows. When the short stranger saw this 
 woman, he boldly stepped into the passage, 
 as though he knew her and the house well. 
 His companion followed at once, and I 
 followed him. But I did not intend to stay 
 in the house long, for I had no money, not 
 even enough to pay for one drink. 
 
 We were soon in a well-furnished back 
 room that had mirrors and pictures on the 
 walls ; the floor had carpets and rugs, and 
 there were two sofas and several arm-chairs, 
 easy, soft and comfortable. In the midst 
 of this splendour, and before such fine 
 women, four in number, I felt uncomfortable 
 in my shabby clothes and their empty
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 73 
 
 pockets. So I would not sit down, and told 
 the two strangers that I was about to go. 
 But the short stranger, who appeared to 
 have taken a liking to me, barred my way, 
 and said, " No, stay with us, and you will 
 be all right in the end." To make matters 
 worse, one of the women, thinking I must 
 have money, pulled me towards a sofa, where 
 she made me sit down and then sat at my 
 side. The woman who had met us at the door, 
 and who was the mistress of the house, took 
 possession of the short stranger, another sat 
 at the side of the tall one, and another sat 
 with me on the sofa. The fourth woman at 
 once made herself busy by going into another 
 room and preparing drinks, which she brought 
 in on a tray. The short stranger paid for 
 these drinks with a dollar bill. After that the 
 wine-bearer sat at a piano and played us 
 music. When she had done, the tall stranger 
 ordered more drinks. It was after having 
 this second drink that I began to feel uncom- 
 fortable, for it was my turn to pay for the 
 next, and I had not a penny in my pocket. 
 So I spoke up boldly, telling the women how 
 I came there without any intention on my
 
 74 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 part, and that I must now go, for I had no 
 money at all. When the women heard this 
 they looked at me with some scorn, especially 
 the mistress of the house, for they had ex- 
 pected me to have something in spite of my 
 shabby appearance. " Show him the way 
 out," said the mistress, speaking to the 
 woman that had brought in the wine. " If 
 he goes, so do I," said the short stranger ; 
 ** I am willing to pay for all he has in this 
 house." " How good you are ! " cried she, 
 putting her hand on his shoulder. " Of 
 course he is welcome to stay as long as he 
 likes." In spite of this speech, she gave me 
 such a look of hate and spite that I was 
 determined to leave in a minute or two. I 
 could see how matters stood : the strangers 
 wanted me at their side for my wits and were 
 afraid to be left alone, whereas the mistress 
 knew that she and her companions could not 
 do what they liked with the strangers as long 
 as I was there. What hateful glances that 
 woman gave me, and how uncomfortable she 
 made me feel. 
 
 In a little while the mistress of the house 
 bared her leg, so as to show us a small
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 75 
 
 wound which had been caused by falhng off 
 a bicycle. Thinking this a good chance to 
 get into her good graces, I said, " That's 
 nothing, it is heahng splendidly." Of course, 
 I meant this as a compliment to her good 
 health and fine condition. But I had no 
 sooner uttered these words that she turned 
 on me with her eyes blazing with fury. 
 " Nothing ! " she cried ; " how would you 
 like to have it, you damn Jew ! " I tried to 
 explain myself, and the short stranger came 
 to my assistance, saying that he quite under- 
 stood what I meant. She gave me another 
 glance of hate, which was followed by a 
 queer smile that I did not hke. After seeing 
 this I was determined to go soon. 
 
 Several more drinks had been brought in 
 and paid for, and the strangers were be- 
 ginning to show the effect of them. A 
 melancholy mood had come over the tall 
 one, and he was shaking his head, saying that 
 he had once been a famous athlete, but was 
 now dying of consumption and had not long 
 to live. His companion was laughing falsely 
 and trying to cheer him. While this was 
 going on the mistress of the house was look-
 
 76 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 ing at me with a nasty smile on her face. In 
 a few moments she said to the short stranger, 
 nodding towards me, " That man is a Jew." 
 " What does that matter ? " he answered 
 with a laugh ; "he has an open, honest 
 look, and that is all I care about." I could 
 now see this woman was trying to turn the 
 stranger against me, and I knew that they 
 were armed with revolvers, and were also 
 getting the worse for drink. However, drink 
 had taken effect on me too, so I only sat 
 laughing and smoking my pipe, while the 
 drinks kept coming in. 
 
 We had now been there several hours and 
 it was night. A fresh lot of drinks had just 
 been brought in, and we were all the worse 
 for what we had had. The strangers picked 
 up their glasses at once and emptied them. 
 In a few moments after they began to shake 
 themselves, fighting against sleep, which 
 began to overpower them. It was then that 
 the mistress of the house caught hold of the 
 short stranger, and the other courtesan did 
 the same with the tall one, and began to 
 drag them out of the room. The next in- 
 stant the four of them were going up the
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 77 
 
 stairs, leaving me in the room alone with 
 the woman that had been near me all the 
 time. This woman had not shown any objec- 
 tion to me, even when she had found out 
 that I had no money. So she now held out 
 her hand, saying, " You must wish me good 
 night, for the mistress will not allow you 
 to stay here without money." Of course I 
 was somewhat the worse for drink, and 
 began a long explanation, telhng how I had 
 met the strangers, how I had come to that 
 house, and how sorry I was to have no money. 
 I don't know how long I had been talking, 
 when all at once I heard a woman's voice 
 say, " Isn't he gone yet ? " " I am going in 
 in a minute or two," I answered, and began 
 explaining again. But I had scarcely uttered 
 a score of words when the mistress walked 
 into the room. " Out you go at once," she 
 cried, pointing a revolver at my head. When 
 I looked at her face and saw the tight lips and 
 the blazing eyes, I was sobered at once. It 
 was the most murderous look I had ever seen 
 on a human face. She had such a hard and 
 determined look that I knew she would have 
 shot me dead if I had made the least motion
 
 78 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 towards her ; and instead of being able to 
 write these experiences, I would be nothing 
 but bones in a backyard or cellar. 
 
 The two strangers had been drugged, I felt 
 sure of that ; and had no sooner reached 
 their beds than they had fallen to sleep, even 
 with their clothes on. That was why this 
 woman was able to leave them so soon and 
 attend to me. I had sense enough to know 
 that she had been drinking too, and that she 
 was desperate and hated me for not going 
 away before. With a full knowledge of this 
 and seeing the revolver pointed my way, I 
 took care not to aggravate her in the least. 
 In fact, I was afraid to give her another look, 
 for fear she would see some bad meaning in it. 
 So I picked up my cap and said, very politely 
 indeed, " Good night," and made my way 
 towards the door. But when I got to the 
 door I could not open it, for I did not know 
 how the latch or bolt worked. This put me 
 in a terrible state, and my fumbling became 
 more shaky and confused. "I'd like to give 
 you a mark to remember me by, after all this 
 trouble," cried the mistress, coming into the 
 passage with the revolver still in her hand.
 
 BACK IN BALTIMORE 79 
 
 " Open the door for him, or I'll blow his 
 brains out." I was not safe yet, apparently, 
 so I said softly, " I am very sorry, madam." 
 The next moment the courtesan that had 
 been at my side all the time, came to the 
 door and opened it. She just had time to 
 squeeze my hand in sympathy and then shut 
 the door. 
 
 When I got outside I breathed freely, for 
 I was now sober and thoughtful, and knew 
 what a narrow escape I had had. No doubt 
 the strangers, being armed, could look after 
 themselves in a quarrel with men, but they 
 had no power against a woman that used 
 drugged wine. But what I considered the 
 most remarkable thing was that the short 
 stranger would not turn against me, al- 
 though under the spell of a woman that 
 openly insulted me, and in spite of the drink 
 he had had. If he had, no doubt they would 
 have killed me between them. That was the 
 nearest I have ever been to receiving my death 
 at the hands of a woman, and one angry 
 word on my part would have been enough.
 
 VII 
 
 In Glasgow 
 
 WHEN I went out the next morning, I 
 saw the two strangers in the distance, 
 coming towards me. They saw me too, before 
 we had come near, and waved their hands. 
 At last we met, and they were shaking me by 
 the hand, at the same time laughing in a 
 manner that was somewhat confused. " We 
 have been robbed," began the short stranger, 
 and they both started to laugh. However, their 
 laughter was none too hearty, and I could 
 see they were annoyed. After a little time 
 they had told me all, how they had found that 
 morning that their pockets were empty of all 
 except a little small change and their watches 
 and chains. They had mentioned this to the 
 mistress of the house, and she had sworn they 
 only paid for a few drinks and given the usual 
 price to stay there all night. " If you have 
 
 been robbed, it was by the man you were 
 
 89
 
 IN GLASGOW 8i 
 
 with/' she had said. " I did not Hke his looks 
 at all, but you would not let me order him out 
 of the house. But as soon as he saw you go to 
 bed, he went fast enough." At this moment 
 I enlightened them both by saying that she 
 was quite right as to my hasty disappearance. 
 When I told them the reason they laughed so 
 heartily that they drew people's attention 
 for some distance away. After they had done 
 laughing — and I had joined them until I had 
 to wipe the tears from my eyes — the short 
 stranger explained to me that he knew 
 exactly what had happened. He said that 
 when they had met me in the morning, they 
 each had about a hundred dollars (£20), and, 
 seeing how little they had spent before we 
 had gone to Alice Ann Street, seeing this, the 
 woman in that house had not done very bad. 
 But he was afraid to call the police and accuse 
 them of robbery, because he did not want his 
 name to appear in the papers and his friends 
 know what had happened. So they had left 
 the house without uttering one angry word, 
 only annoyed at one thing — that they would 
 now have to send home for more money, so 
 as to be able to pay their fare back home.
 
 82 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 At this moment we came to a post office, 
 and the strangers entered, asking me if I 
 would wait for them outside. In a moment 
 after they were back at my side, telUng me 
 that they would have money sent before long, 
 and asking me to stay with them until it 
 came. ** For," said the short stranger, " we 
 owe you something for your kindness." 
 " Nonsense," I answered, " it was a pity 
 that I ever led you to Alice Ann Street." 
 " We would have found it without your help," 
 said his companion, " and the same thing 
 would have happened." Of course, I could 
 see that these two men were rich, and were 
 not so much worried over the loss of a couple 
 of hundred dollars as the inconvenience of 
 having to wait for more. For that reason I 
 made up my mind, seeing that I was on the 
 rocks, to accept a small sum at their hands. 
 So, when their money came, and the short 
 stranger offered me a five dollar bill (£i), I 
 took it without any false modesty. In a 
 couple of hours after this I parted from them 
 at the railway station, for they were going to 
 Philadelphia for a day or two, before they 
 returned to their home in Washington. I
 
 IN GLASGOW 83 
 
 judged them to be well-educated men and 
 independent. 
 
 In a few da^-'s after this I set sail for Glasgow 
 on the cattleship Concordia. Another cattle- 
 man, who was born in Scotland, but had lived 
 in America since his childhood, asked me if I 
 would like to stay at a certain common 
 lodging-house, one of the best of its kind that 
 he knew of. Of course, the small sum we 
 received for the trip could not raise us above 
 a common lodging-house, so I agreed to go 
 with him to that house. As soon as we 
 reached the lodging-house and had paid for 
 our beds, Scottie, to my surprise, gave me a 
 wink and a smile and left. Of course, it was 
 not long before I guessed the meaning of 
 this, that he had some private quest that 
 would be ruined if he had a companion. So, 
 after he had gone, I went out and bought a 
 daily paper, and then returned to the house 
 to read it. It was a warm and comfortable 
 kitchen, and I could well spend a few hours 
 sitting there, so long as I had reading matter 
 and tobacco. But when it struck ten o'clock 
 and Scottie had not come back, I began to 
 think that he had fallen into bad hands ; and
 
 84 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 when it struck eleven, and still no Scottie, I 
 felt certain that such was the case, and went 
 to bed without waiting any longer. 
 
 When I came downstairs the next morning, 
 there was still no sign of Scottie. But I had 
 not been in the kitchen more than twenty 
 minutes when in he v/alked, having his coat 
 on his arm and his shirt open at the collar, 
 by which I judged he had come from his 
 bed, and had not been out all night. " Where 
 have you been ? " I asked. " I thought you 
 had got into trouble." "So I did," he answered, 
 " but soon got out of it." " Tell me what 
 has happened," I said, pouring him out a cup 
 of tea, for I was just about to have breakfast. 
 " Well," he began, " I have been with a Scotch 
 lassie, and she got the best of me, all through 
 a scoundrel she keeps in idleness. I met her 
 in a public-house, late last night, and, after 
 paying for several drinks, went home with 
 her. 
 
 " She told me, as we went along, that she 
 had a room in a private house, and did not 
 live in a common lodging-house, as a number 
 of other girls did. * I am not one of those 
 common lodging-house girls,' she said, with
 
 IN GLASGOW 85 
 
 a great deal of pride — * such girls are not to 
 be trusted.' I did not know anything about 
 that matter, so I made no answer. She was 
 very quick on her feet, and made good use of 
 them, and I had to increase my ordinary 
 gait to keep up with her. Perhaps she wanted 
 to get home as soon as possible, seeing that 
 the neighbourhood was common and people 
 were standing at their doors. It also occurred 
 to me that the sooner I was indoors and out 
 of sight, the more comfortable I would feel. 
 
 " At last she stopped in front of a dark 
 house, which had the front door wide open, 
 and a lighted lamp was suspended in the 
 passage. 'Follow me,' she said, and walked 
 in. Half-way down the passage I saw the 
 stairs, which she began to climb, while I 
 followed close at her heels. When we reached 
 the top of the flight, I saw another, for the 
 house was three stories high. But there was 
 no lamp now, and I had to fumble in the dark. 
 ' Give me your hand,' she whispered, * we 
 have not far to go now, only a few steps.' I 
 could see nothing of my surroundings, but I 
 heard a noise which told me at once the 
 character of that house. I could hear the
 
 86 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 heavy breathing of a number of men in rooms 
 near me, and I knew it was a common lodging- 
 house. Of course, I did not want to be in a 
 house that was full of rough men, knowing that 
 she, if dishonest, would then have courage to 
 do as she liked. So I halted on the second 
 flight of stairs and said with annoyance, 
 * This house is full of men.' ' It is only the 
 landlady and her f amity,' answered the girl. 
 I did not know what to do now, for I was 
 ashamed to retreat, and still had fear of the 
 consequences of staying there. While I was 
 in this unsettled state the girl had opened a 
 door, struck a match, and now came forward 
 with a light. ' All right,' I said, ' I am with 
 you, but if there is the least sign of dishonesty, 
 it will be the worse for you.' Of course, this 
 was only an idle threat, nothing more. 
 Saying this I followed her into the room and 
 shut the door, but there was no key, and that 
 increased my suspicion at once to an alarming 
 extent. 
 
 " The room was very poorly furnished, 
 there being nothing but a bed and two chairs. 
 I could not judge whether the bedclothes were 
 clean or not, but there was sufficient light
 
 IN GLASGOW 87 
 
 to see that the quilt was torn, and yet covered 
 with patches, to prove its rotten old age. 
 In spite of this I sat down, determined to 
 make the best of my surroundings. ' After 
 all,' thought I, * what can I expect ? She is 
 only a poor girl, too ill-dressed to court the 
 attention of rich men, and I am only paying 
 her a few shillings.' After coming to this 
 conclusion I felt better satisfied with my 
 lot. 
 
 " The girl now began to take off her shawl, 
 which she hung up behind the door. She did 
 not wear a hat. Then she came to business 
 without loss of time, asking how much I 
 intended to give her. * I will give you ten 
 shillings,' I answered, wliich was quite gener- 
 ous under those conditions. I may as well say 
 here that I never went with a girl of this kind 
 without paying her more than she could 
 expect. * I am quite satisfied,' she said, her 
 face lighting up, and holding out her hand, in 
 which I placed the money. ' You must 
 excuse me a moment now,' she said, * for I 
 must go downstairs and pay my landlady 
 before I go to bed.' ' You will not be long ? ' 
 I asked. ' Not more than a couple of minutes,'
 
 88 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 she answered, and left the room. I filled my 
 pipe and began to smoke. I waited five 
 minutes, ten, fifteen, but there was no sign 
 of my Scotch lassie. At last, after I had been 
 there about half an hour, I came to the 
 conclusion that she had gone out and I would 
 see no more of her. However, I was deter- 
 mined to stay a little longer, thinking that 
 the landlady had offered her a drink, and that 
 the two of them were gossiping over it. I 
 could hear no voices, although I went out on 
 the landing. There was no other sound than 
 the heavy breathing and snores of a number 
 of sleepers in various rooms on the different 
 floors. I must have been there for nearly an 
 hour, when I heard someone coming up the 
 stairs. It could not have been the girl, for, 
 as I have said, she was in her bare feet. 
 Thinking of this I went to the door to see who 
 it was. I had not been there a second when 
 a big, hulking, ruffianly-looking fellow stood 
 before me. He did not appear a bit surprised 
 at seeing me there, and asked quietly, 
 * Where's Mary ? ' Of course, I knew at once 
 that this man was living on the girl's im- 
 morality, but that was nothing to do with
 
 IN GLASGOW 89 
 
 me, however much I despised a wretch hke 
 that, so I answered him in his own quiet 
 tones, saying, ' She has gone to pay the 
 landlady, but has been gone a long time.' 
 * All right, laddie,' he said, ' I will look for 
 her and send her up to you.' But I could not 
 stay in that house now, seeing that the girl 
 was connected with a man of that type, for I 
 knew that I would lose what money I liad 
 left. So I said, ' Never mind looking for her, 
 I am going back to my own lodgings.' Saying 
 this I followed him down the stairs. 
 
 " When we reached the front door, which 
 was now shut, the man opened it and stepped 
 back to allow me to pass out. * Thank you,' 
 I said, and the next moment my right hand 
 shot out and landed on his jaw. The blow 
 was more successful than I expected, for the 
 man fell and did not rise and follow me. I 
 knew that the girl was doing these dishonest 
 tricks for the sake of this low ruffian, whom 
 she was keeping in idleness, and I hated with 
 all my soul a man like that." 
 
 After Scottie had finished telling me this 
 exciting adventure, we both went out together 
 to see the sights of Glasgow.
 
 VIII 
 
 A Nieht Out 
 
 '25^ 
 
 AFTER this trip to Scotland, I returned 
 jt\ to America on the same boat, the 
 trip having lasted thirty days in all. 
 
 For several years I wandered North, South, 
 East, and West, during which time I made 
 a few trips with cattle to Liverpool and 
 London. But after this strange life had been 
 going on for over five years, I suddenly made 
 up my mind to return to my native land for 
 good. What brought this determination to 
 a head was the knowledge of having a sum of 
 money saved — over a hundred pounds — re- 
 sulting from a small income that I had let 
 stand. So one morning I set sail from Balti- 
 more and landed in Liverpool on the twelfth 
 day. On the afternoon of that day I took 
 train for South Wales. However, being 
 young and hardy, I found it impossible to 
 
 settle after so much travel abroad. So I 
 
 90
 
 A NIGHT OUT 91 
 
 soon grew tired of my native town, and 
 made up my mind to leave it before my 
 money was gone. There was still a con- 
 siderable sum left, over sixty pounds, when 
 I took train for London, arriving in that city 
 some time about midnight. 
 
 Now while I was standing on a corner, 
 leaning against a lamp-post and resting, I 
 felt a touch on my shoulder, and turned to 
 see who it was. To my surprise I saw a fine 
 tall girl, richly dressed, standing there and 
 holding out her right hand to give me some- 
 thing. Wondering what she meant, my own 
 hand went forth mechanically, and the next 
 instant two pennies were in it and the girl 
 was going away at a great pace. However, 
 I had seen in that short time that her face 
 was painted, and I knew what kind of girl 
 she was to be out alone at that hour. Of 
 course, she had taken me for a poor homeless 
 wretch that had to walk about all night and 
 was penniless. No doubt my appearance had 
 deceived her, for she could not see my white 
 collar owing to my coat being turned up 
 high ; and she could not tell the quality of 
 my cloth owing to the bad light. I began to
 
 92 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 go after her, but she appeared to be in a great 
 hurry to get somewhere, and I did not Uke 
 to shout, so I let her go her way. In a few 
 moments after I saw a poor ragged woman 
 sitting in a doorway, and I gave her the two- 
 pence, which I had kept in my hand for that 
 purpose. 
 
 In about an hour after this, I happened 
 to be passing one of those coffee-stands that 
 open at night, when another woman, not 
 nearly so well dressed as the other, came up 
 to me and said, " Get yourself a cup of coffee," 
 and slipped a penny into my hand. " No," 
 I answered at once, giving her the penny 
 back — ** no, you shall not pay for me, but 
 I will pay for you." She seemed greatly sur- 
 prised at this, and said, " I thought you had 
 no home and were out for the night." I 
 made no answer to this, but invited her to 
 follow me to the stand, which she did. While 
 we were standing there drinking our coffee, 
 she was very curious to know something of 
 my affairs, for she had taken me to be home- 
 less and poor. However, I did not satisfy her 
 curiosity, but merely paid for a cup of coffee 
 and a cake. After doing this, and drinking
 
 A NIGHT OUT 93 
 
 a cup of coffee myself, I gave her sixpence, for 
 she looked so wretchedly poor. I told her 
 then that I had but little money, but could 
 afford that amount for her very kind inten- 
 tion. After I had left her I could think of 
 nothing else but these two women, and wonder- 
 ing at their extraordinary sympathy for the 
 poor. Of course, if they had seen a white 
 collar and a fashionable tie they would not 
 have made such a mistake, and would have 
 approached me with a different purpose. 
 Since these two incidents I have never been 
 able to be other than patient with women of 
 that kind, even when I have heard their loud- 
 mouthed abuse in public-houses. 
 
 Since those days my knowledge of life has in- 
 creased, and I know well that whatever may 
 be said of a woman of that kind, it must be 
 confessed that her sympathy for the poor and 
 the afflicted is most extraordinary. She is 
 not blind or deaf to distress, in spite of the 
 wild, careless frivolity with which she tries 
 to attract strange men and keep them as long 
 as they have money to spend, and perhaps 
 rob them. No matter how well dressed she 
 is, she never shrinks from dirt and rags, and
 
 94 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 she never ridicules the odd and the afflicted, 
 as so many respectable women do. If a poor 
 man with a double nose passes by, or with 
 his two eyes looking at each other instead of 
 straight on — he will set all the respectable 
 shop-girls tittering. But there is one who 
 sees nothing to laugh at, and that is the 
 woman who is an unfortunate. What draws 
 her attention is his rags, his tired limp, and 
 his troubled looks ; and if she has a few 
 pennies in her pocket, she will give him one. 
 From the point of view of those poor home- 
 less wretches in London, it is a pity that 
 there are not more women of her class. The 
 Salvation Army will shelter him for two- 
 pence, but who gives him the twopence ? 
 Other charitable institutions will give him 
 bread and soup for a penny, but who gives 
 him the penny ? For it must be remem- 
 bered that these very poor people are not 
 beggars, and whatever they get is unsolicited. 
 Then who is their support ? The woman 
 whose eyes never fail to see someone more 
 unfortunate than herself, who cannot keep 
 a penny in her pocket when she sees others 
 in want.
 
 A NIGHT OUT 95 
 
 How these women help one another is 
 wonderful. The sacrifices they make look 
 foolish in the eyes of respectability. These 
 are the women whose hearts shed tears of 
 blood when their eyes show no water and 
 their hps utter no sympathy. Those ragged, 
 wretched-looking old women whom wc see 
 so often in the streets of London, know very 
 well who to appeal to. Not to the respectable 
 lady, but to the girl who is so easily known 
 by her roving glances. And many a home- 
 less man knows that he is more likely to 
 receive unsolicited charity at night, when 
 only a few rakes and fast women are in the 
 street, than by day, when it holds hundreds 
 of respectable people. These are strange 
 words, but the truth is in them, as I know well 
 from my own experience of poverty. 
 
 As I was going along I saw a man coming 
 towards me laughing, with a woman at his 
 heels, who was scolding him. When they 
 reached my side the man stopped and said 
 to the woman, in a warning voice, " I am 
 going down this street, and if you dare to 
 follow me it will be the worse for you." 
 Saying this he left Oxford Street and went
 
 96 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 down a dark narrow street adjoining it. 
 " I will follow you," screamed the woman. 
 Then she turned to me, and said, " What do 
 you think of this man ; he has been with 
 me and now refuses to pay the shilling he 
 promised." " Oh, he'll pay you all right," 
 I answered, thinking the man was teasing 
 her. For I could never think there was a 
 man in the whole world that would be base 
 enough to take advantage of a woman of 
 that kind. This was that very low class of 
 unfortunates who had no homes and were 
 nearly always out in the streets, night and 
 day. But I was deceived in this, for the man 
 turned and threatened to strike her. Then 
 he altered his mind, for she shrank back. 
 He then started down the street, as he had 
 said he would. " Let us try him again," I 
 said to the woman, beginning to follow after 
 him. When the man turned and saw the 
 both of us close behind him, he stood with 
 his back to a wall, not knowing what to do. 
 " Why don't you pay this poor woman ? " 
 
 I asked. " Surely you will ? " " Yes, " 
 
 screamed the woman in a voice so loud that 
 I was afraid the police would hear her.
 
 A NIGHT OUT 97 
 
 " Yes, you pay me before you go." *' Go 
 
 away, you ," the stranger growled in 
 
 a threatening voice, and made another motion 
 to strike her. 
 
 I did not know what to do under these 
 circumstances. First I thought to give the 
 woman a shiUing out of my own pocket, and 
 persuade her to trouble about him no more. 
 But after that I began to think it was a 
 shame that a mean, unprincipled fellow like 
 that should be allowed to have his own way. 
 Of course, I dared not get mixed up in a 
 fight and be arrested, for, as I have said, 
 I had a considerable sum on me, and it 
 would not be a very noble case to appear in. 
 It suddenly occurred to me to risk the conse- 
 quence of one attempt. As I have said, the 
 man was standing with his back to a wall, 
 so with one bound I sprang forward and with 
 my open hand pushed his head back with all 
 my force. There was a dull thud and then a 
 groan, and the next moment the man fell to 
 the hard pavement, where he lay without 
 making another move. The woman no 
 sooner saw the success of this than she was 
 on her knees at his side, with her hands in his 
 
 H
 
 98 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 pockets. " Come away," I said, " or the 
 police will be here." While I was saying this 
 she not only had the man's money in her 
 hand, but his watch and chain also. 
 
 It was only a few steps to the corner 
 and, when we reached it, I left her at once. 
 As we parted I saw a policeman in the 
 distance, and he was looking our way. But 
 it was too late for him to know our business 
 now, however much he might be interested. 
 As a rule policemen have much sympathy for 
 a girl of this kind. If she is not too bold, and 
 is not drunk enough to make a nuisance of 
 herself, very few policemen will interfere 
 with her. Of course there is an occasional 
 policeman of a different character, who will 
 even suspect and arrest a respectable woman, 
 when she stops a strange man to ask him a 
 simple question — but such a policeman is 
 one in a hundred. There have been a great 
 number of poor men and women who have 
 been assisted by policemen. Many a police- 
 man, whose wages are less than thirty shillings 
 a week, has given a poor man or woman as 
 much as sixpence to get a bed with. The 
 heart is big, indeed, when it does that.
 
 A NIGHT OUT 99 
 
 There is a certain class of men that always 
 take a delight in annoying these unfortunate 
 girls, talking to them and wasting their 
 time, and having no intention of going with 
 them. Some of these are drunken married 
 men. But the very worst men are those — ^like 
 the one I have mentioned — who go with these 
 women and then refuse to pay for their en- 
 joyment ; or having paid for it, rob them of 
 the money they have given. Such a man is 
 the meanest and most despicable scoundrel 
 in the world, and should never escape heavy 
 punishment. He knows very well that he 
 has nothing to fear from the law, and the 
 only thing he has to put up with is the 
 woman's tongue, which amuses the coward. 
 And when her voice becomes too loud for his 
 amusement, he takes to his heels.
 
 IX 
 
 A Strong Woman 
 
 TWO or three nights after this I met 
 a woman that was better able to take 
 care of herself. This woman did not rely on 
 her tongue, but on her right arm. I was in 
 Waterloo Road, at the time, somewhere about 
 half-past eleven at night. Seeing that I had 
 not had a drink all day, I thought there was 
 no danger now in having a glass or two of 
 ale. I would not be able to get any the worse 
 for drink, because the public-houses would 
 close in an hour's time, and I did not know 
 where to get drink during closed hours. It 
 must be remembered that I had no friends 
 in London, and it is very difficult for a man 
 to walk about all day with money in his 
 pocket and no one to speak to. It is only in 
 a public-house that a stranger can dare to 
 speak familiarly to another, and be answered 
 in the same cheerful spirit. You can do that 
 
 lOO
 
 A STRONG WOMAN loi 
 
 over a glass of ale, but not over a cup of tea 
 or chocolate. It is a cold life to be a stranger 
 and a teetotaller in a large cit}', for the only 
 men that will be friendly and talk are to be 
 found in a public-house. However, in spite 
 of this wish to be sociable with someone, I 
 did not want to mix with many, so I went 
 into a private bar. But when I got inside 
 there was no one there, so I sat do\\Ti, not 
 doubting but what another customer would 
 soon come in. I was quite right in this, for 
 almost at my heels another man walked in 
 and greeted me pleasantly, even before he 
 ordered his drink. So I began a conversation 
 with him and found him so sociable that I 
 soon in\'ited him to have another drink. 
 But I had scarcely ordered this last drink 
 when a woman walked into the bar, at which 
 I was not surprised. In fact, I had begun 
 to wonder where all the women were, for 
 they were usually peeping into private bars, 
 and if one had done so and saw two men 
 without a woman, it is most certain that she 
 would ha^'e entered. So I was not surprised 
 when this woman walked in, nor was I sur- 
 prised when she asked my companion to pay
 
 I02 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 for a drink for her, which he did wilhngly. I 
 could see, however, that she had had some 
 drink before, but she was nothing out of the 
 way in her conduct. As I looked I saw that 
 she was a fine, healthy-looking woman, of 
 about thirty years of age, big-limbed but not 
 tall. She had a clean, fresh look, but her 
 clothes were not of the best. " Are you 
 coming home with me to-night ? " she 
 asked, after a few moments, looking at my 
 companion. " Not to-night. Poll," he an- 
 swered ; "I have no money to spare." 
 " Will you ? " she asked, looking at me. 
 " I am in the same position," I answered ; 
 " but will give you sixpence to help you 
 along." Saying this I gave her sixpence, 
 which she took with a smile of thanks, after 
 which she left as quickly as she had come. 
 ** That's an extraordinary woman," said my 
 companion, after he had made sure that she 
 was out of hearing. " In what way ? " I 
 asked. " The way she can use her hands," 
 answered my companion. " Can she use 
 them like a man ? " I asked. " I have seen 
 few men that could use them like her," 
 answered the stranger. " I proved that the
 
 A STRONG WOMAN 103 
 
 first time I met her, which was about three 
 weeks ago. I met her here, in this very bar, 
 and, after paying for a drink or two, took 
 a fancy to her." Saying this the stranger 
 took another drink, and I saw that he was 
 preparing to tell me his experience, so I re- 
 mained silent. " When we got outside," he 
 began, " we stood awhile on the corner, as 
 though I intended to wish her good night. 
 But the truth of the matter was that I wanted 
 a little more persuasion to go home with her. 
 She was not backward in coaxing, and her 
 voice was gentle, but she did not put her 
 hands on me. This proved that she had a 
 woman's delicacy and reserve, which is not 
 often found in a woman that has been with 
 many men. ' Where do you live ? ' I 
 asked at last, after we had stood there talk- 
 ing for some time. * In Oakley Street,' she 
 answered, ' which is only just across the 
 road.' ' It is a very rough street,' I said. 
 ' What does that matter,' she asked, ' as 
 long as the house I live in is quiet ? ' * Come 
 on, then,' I said, suddenly making up my 
 mind ; ' I will take your word that the 
 house is quiet.'
 
 104 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 " In a few moments we were in Oakley 
 Street, and she explained that her house 
 was at the far end. However, that did not 
 matter, for the whole length of the street 
 was not much. As we were walking along 
 talking a man came staggering around a 
 corner and stood in front of us. I saw that 
 the man was drunk and prepared to make 
 way for him. But the woman I was with 
 stood, to my surprise, expecting him to make 
 way for us. If she had not done this no 
 doubt the man would have passed us quietly. 
 But when he saw this woman so close to him, 
 he put forth his hand to take hold of her. 
 Perhaps he did not think I was with her, for, 
 without expecting any trouble, I had walked 
 past, thinking she was close behind me. 
 It had never occurred to me that there was 
 the least likelihood of trouble, for no sensible 
 person would take notice of a drunken man. 
 * What's the matter ? ' I asked, returning 
 at once, so as to show the man that the 
 woman was my companion. ' It is all 
 right,' said the woman ; ' you are a respect- 
 able man, and I don't want to get you into 
 trouble. I can take care of myself.' Saying
 
 A STRONG WOMAN 105 
 
 this she struck out with her two fists, and the 
 next moment the man was sprawhng on the 
 ground. In spite of this sudden onslaught, 
 she did not appear to be in the least passion, 
 but stood there quietly looking at the man, 
 who was soon sitting up and rubbing his face, 
 no doubt wondering what had happened. 
 * Come on,' she said, after being satisfied 
 that the man was not unconscious and had 
 not broken any limbs ; ' come on, he'll 
 be all right in a few minutes.' But when I 
 saw this I began to alter my mind about 
 going home with her. For if she took it into 
 her head that she had cause to quarrel with 
 me, what might be the consequence, seeing 
 that we would be shut up inside a small 
 room ? I did not like the idea of having to 
 fight for my life against a woman, and it was 
 clear that I would be forced to do so if she 
 turned nasty. Thinking of this I stood, not 
 knowing what to do. * Surely you are not 
 afraid ? ' she asked, with a laugh, seeing 
 my troubled looks, ' You ought not to have 
 done that,' I said quietly ; ' he was only 
 a poor drunkard, and he meant no serious 
 harm.' ' I am sorry now,' she answered,
 
 io6 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 * but I cannot help doing these things at 
 times. I thought he might attack you, and 
 that's why I did it.' When I heard this I 
 was amazed, and at last said, ' You appear 
 to think I am a mere child and need a woman 
 to fight my battles.' ' No, I don't,' she 
 answered, laughing. * You don't know what 
 kind of woman I am. When you know some- 
 thing of my past life, you will understand 
 that it is nothing for me to knock a man 
 down, without using any other weapons than 
 my bare hands.' I looked intently at her 
 face, but I saw not the least sign of a vicious 
 temper, only the same quiet and good- 
 natured smile. So we again walked on to- 
 gether, and in less than three minutes she 
 stood at the door of a house, saying, ' Here 
 we are at last.' She took a key out of her 
 pocket and opened the door, and when I 
 saw a light in the passage, I had no fear of 
 following her in. Of course, it must be under- 
 stood that I did not want her to have the 
 least idea that I was timid. It would have 
 pleased me very much to think that she had 
 a little fear of me, which was not likely to be 
 the case.
 
 A STRONG WOMAN 107 
 
 ''When we both stood on top of the first 
 flight of stairs and turned towards the second 
 flight, we were both in darkness, for the 
 passage lamp had no power up there. So, 
 to encourage me to have no fear, she said 
 calmly, ' Here is the door of my room ; 
 wait a second, until I light my lamp.' I 
 stood at the door waiting, but she was so long 
 fumbling about in the darkness that I began 
 to get nervous. She knew I would be in this 
 state, for she said at once, ' I don't remember 
 where I put the matches ; will you strike 
 one of yours ? ' This I did, taking good 
 care not to go near her, for I began to be 
 afraid of a sudden blow. It was not so much 
 the woman I feared, in spite of what I had 
 seen her do, as the thought that others were 
 there to help her. However, before I could 
 strike a light, she cried from the far end of 
 the room, ' I have them,' and the next 
 instant a match was struck. I was now stand- 
 ing in the doorway, and I could see that she 
 was alone in the room, so I walked in. But 
 when I was once inside and the lamp was 
 lit, I was determined to take every precaution, 
 whether my suspicions offended her or not.
 
 io8 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 So I not only turned the key in the lock, to 
 guard from the outside, but I also looked 
 under the bed. * Are you satisfied now ? ' 
 she asked, with a merry little laugh. My 
 only answer was to put my arms around her 
 and give her a hug. 
 
 ** Before long this woman told me her 
 history, and, when I had heard it, I was 
 not at all surprised at the way she had used 
 her hands when insulted by a drunken man. 
 Her husband had been a noted boxer, and 
 she had often boxed with him. He had died 
 about six months ago, and she had only been 
 leading this kind of life for two months. It 
 was from her husband that she had learnt 
 the way to use her hands to that purpose, 
 which was extraordinary for a woman. And 
 it was owing to getting mixed up in dis- 
 turbances, when with him, that she had had 
 real practice, and trained her mind to keep 
 cool, without the loss of her wits. For in- 
 stance, at one time they had a travelling 
 booth, and on several occasions rough men 
 had broken into the ring when her husband 
 was out-boxing a local man. These men 
 would be half drunk and under the impres-
 
 A STRONG WOMAN 109 
 
 sion that their friend was dealt with too 
 severely by her husband. On such occasions 
 she had entered the ring and used her hands 
 to such purpose in defending her husband, 
 that in a few minutes the ring would be 
 empty of all but their two selves. She ex- 
 plained, with some modesty, that the men 
 were taken by surprise at being punched so 
 scientifically by a woman, and that they 
 did not strike back because of her sex. But 
 in spite of that, she claimed that she was 
 good enough for any two ordinary men, 
 even if they were perfectly sober and gave 
 her no more mercy than they would give 
 a man. She had been in quite a number of 
 affairs of this kind, and was none the worse 
 for them. 
 
 ** Under these circumstances, I could quite 
 understand this woman's temptation to use 
 her power against those drunken bullies who, 
 thinking women are weak, are always in- 
 sulting them. And what made her so sensi- 
 tive on this subject was that she had only 
 been leading a courtesan's life for a short 
 time, and had not yet begun to realize her 
 fall. This made her very sensitive to insult,
 
 no THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 and she could not resist the temptation to 
 strike out according to her power and confi- 
 dence." 
 
 After I had heard this account of her Hfe, 
 I told the stranger my experience a few 
 nights before, with a man that had taken 
 advantage of a woman that had no home at 
 all. " And was the man sober ? " he asked. 
 " Yes," I answered, " and that made matters 
 much worse." " I didn't think there could 
 be such a man in the world," he said, after 
 some thought. " Woe betide him if he meets 
 Poll Sanders one of these nights, and tries 
 the same thing on her ! "
 
 X 
 
 Blackmail 
 
 SOME nights after this I went to the 
 Oxford Music-hall, where I stood up at 
 the back of the pit. There was a very fine 
 lot of artists, worth paying to hear. But one 
 artist, a lady, was not good. Her voice was 
 no better than thousands and thousands of 
 poor women that sing lullabies to their 
 children, and who are leading quiet household 
 lives. As we know, sometimes a woman 
 marries a well-known man and takes advan- 
 tage of his name to push her own ambition ; 
 and sometimes a man marries a talented 
 woman and acts in public with her — which- 
 ever it is, it is certain that there are quite a 
 number of men and women that appear where 
 they have no talent to be. Her voice was not 
 naturally good, although cultivation had done 
 its best. Of course, we often see the same 
 
 cruel imposition in the sons of well-known 
 
 III
 
 112 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 fathers, who can do more with a small amount 
 of talent than another, having to make his 
 way from obscurity, can do with a large 
 amount of genius. The world is full of cruel 
 cases of this kind. These thoughts annoyed 
 me, for I knew that she was not a poor woman 
 that sang for a living ; but that she was rich, 
 and vain on nothing, and was helped by 
 an accident. So, after I had heard her 
 sing a few notes, I came to the conclusion 
 that I could do much better by having a 
 drink than listening to her, and went to the 
 bar for that purpose. 
 
 When I got to the bar and told the waiter 
 what I wanted, I saw a gentleman standing 
 there with his right hand bandaged, and 
 two fashionably dressed girls with him, one 
 on each side. Turning to me, this gentleman 
 said, " Do you mind putting your hand into 
 this pocket and getting my purse for me ? 
 I have spent all the change I had in my 
 left pocket, and now I cannot get at my 
 purse, owing to my right hand being band- 
 aged." " No," I answered at once, " I do 
 not care to put my hand into the pocket of 
 a stranger — ask one of your friends." " Let
 
 BLACKMAIL 113 
 
 me get it for you," began one of the girls. 
 " No, thank you," he answered, with a short 
 laugh; " you are too clever for me." " Will 
 you let me ? " asked the other girl. " No, 
 thank you," he answered, with another merry 
 laugh, " you are birds of one feather." The 
 girls appeared to be used to this kind of 
 treatment, for they both laughed merrily, 
 without being in the least offended. Of course, 
 I could now see exactly how matters stood. 
 He was quite willing to pay for drinks for 
 these two girls, but they were strangers, and, 
 knowing what they were, he was afraid to 
 trust them. So when he turned towards me 
 with a good-natured smile and asked the 
 second time if I would do that kindness for 
 him, I altered my mind. However, I was 
 determined to be cautious, so I said, " Yes, 
 I will put my hand into your pocket, but 
 first I want you to make sure that the purse 
 is there, for I don't care to run the least risk 
 of suspicion." When he heard this, he said, 
 " I quite understand your feeling, but whether 
 it is there or not, it will make no difference in 
 my attitude towards you." While he was 
 saying this he felt outside the pocket with his
 
 114 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 left hand, and cried at once, " Yes, here it 
 is, I can feel it." Without any more talk I 
 put my hand into his pocket and got his 
 purse for him, which he thanked me for. He 
 then offered to pay for a drink for me, which 
 I declined, for my own glass stood untouched 
 before me. I was very glad when it was 
 done, and done to his satisfaction, for 
 although it was not pleasant to put one's 
 hand into a stranger's pocket, I could not 
 very well refuse under the circumstances. 
 If he had not been perfectly sober, I would 
 not have done it, in spite of his helplessness 
 with a bandaged hand. 
 
 After I had turned away from this man 
 and his two gay companions, I saw another 
 girl standing close to my side. She had come 
 there without my knowledge, and I was quite 
 surprised to see her. For she must have used 
 her voice, seeing that there was a glass of 
 liquor on the bar in front of her. " He did 
 quite right," said this woman to me, in a 
 familiar voice — " he did quite right not to 
 trust those girls. I happen to know them, 
 and no man has ever gone home with one of 
 them without losing something. You were
 
 BLACKMAIL 115 
 
 lucky that they did not get hold of you." 
 When I heard this I, of course, knew what 
 kind of woman was talking to me — she was 
 one of the fast girls herself. I saw at once 
 that she was quite as well dressed as the 
 others were, and did not appear to be much 
 over twenty years of age. However, in 
 spite of her fine clothes, she did not strike 
 me as being any other than an ordinary 
 uneducated girl dressed above her station. 
 
 In a few moments she had drunk her glass 
 of liquor and still stood at my side, without 
 showing the least incHnation to go. So I 
 drank mine and then asked her if she would 
 have another. She nodded yes, and began 
 talking as though she had known me for 
 years. But up to the present time she had 
 not proposed any plans for our future action, 
 and I did not dare throw out the least hint, 
 for there was one chance in fifty that she 
 was a respectable woman. With this idea 
 I finished my drink, and then told her I was 
 going to take a back seat and listen to the 
 performance. As soon as I began to move 
 away from the bar, she finished her liquor 
 and followed me, and took a seat at my side
 
 ii6 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 Of course, I knew now that she took it for 
 granted that I would go home with her after 
 the performance. But we had not been 
 seated ten minutes when I heard a voice 
 behind me say quietly, but distinctly, " You 
 thief ! " Turning my head at these words, 
 I saw a man leaning over with his hand on 
 my companion's shoulder. I looked at my 
 fair companion and saw her turn rather pale, 
 but her expression was hard and without 
 fear. '* Who are you, and what do you 
 mean ? " she asked boldly. " You have 
 made a great mistake." " Have I ? " said 
 the stranger, with a short laugh. " If you 
 don't leave this house at once, I will have 
 you arrested, and we will see whether I have 
 made a mistake or not." When the girl 
 heard this she rose and, looking at me, said, 
 " Come, let us go ; this man has made a 
 mistake, but we don't want any fuss made." 
 " No," I answered, " I intend to see the 
 end of the performance." When she heard 
 this, she did not waste any time in trying 
 to coax me, as I thought she would, but left 
 without another word. 
 
 After she had gone the stranger, who had
 
 BLACKMAIL 117 
 
 followed her with his eyes, took the scat 
 she had vacated, and said, ** You ought to 
 be thankful to me for saving you from bad 
 company." " Do you know her ? " I asked. 
 ** Yes," he answered, " she made a fool of 
 me, about a week ago. I went home with her, 
 and a big bully came into the bedroom and 
 tried to blackmail me." " Let us go to the 
 bar and have a drink," I said, *' for I would 
 like to hear more about it." 
 
 As we stood at the bar he began his story, 
 which is not an uncommon one in London. 
 " A week ago to-night," he began, " I met 
 this same girl, and was persuaded to go home 
 with her. So I called a cab, for she lived 
 some distance away, and we drove off 
 together. When the cabman stopped and 
 we both got out, I looked at my surroundings, 
 and I did not like the look of them. However, 
 I had not expected much better, for girls of 
 this kind cannot afford to live in very fine 
 houses. Even if they could, they would not 
 be allowed long to take men home with them, 
 before their more respectable neighbours 
 would complain. It is not so much the 
 question of taking men home at night, when
 
 ii8 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 it is dark and their neighbours asleep, as the 
 next morning, when the men, who are 
 strangers, are seen leaving the houses in a 
 great hurry, and with their heads hanging 
 down. 
 
 " The place where we came to a halt was 
 a kind of square that had narrow streets 
 running into it. So when I had paid the 
 cabman, my companion led the way down one 
 of these streets, which was dark and narrow, 
 with houses old and small. In a few moments 
 she stopped in front of a house and, taking 
 a key out of her pocket, opened the door. 
 It was quite dark inside, but she struck a 
 light almost immediately, and then I could 
 see that she had had a candle and matches 
 waiting ready at the bottom of the stairs. 
 As soon as I saw this light, which she now 
 had in her hand, I felt more at ease and 
 followed her up the stairs, when we soon 
 entered a room. After we were in, she at 
 once lit a small lamp, which she then placed 
 in a safe quarter and blew the candle out. 
 
 " When we were in the room, and I had 
 shut the door, my companion took off her 
 hat and then sat in a chair, while I sat facing
 
 BLACKMAIL ilg 
 
 her some distance away. * Now,' she said, 
 ' how much are you going to give me ? ' I 
 was astonished when she asked this in a loud 
 hard voice, as though we were in a busy street 
 by day. And when I looked at her, I was 
 more astonished than ever, for all her smiles 
 had vanished, and she was now looking as 
 sternly as it was possible for one so young, 
 and of that sex too. In fact, it was the tone 
 and the look of a bully, and I did not like 
 the change at all. * Is there anyone else 
 living in the house ? ' I asked. ' What if 
 there is ? ' she demanded in the same loud 
 voice. * Are you afraid ? ' * No,' I am not 
 afraid,' I answered, ' but I would not like to 
 disturb anyone that sleeps.' It struck me at 
 once that she wanted to intimidate me, to 
 prepare me for something to follow. At this 
 moment I heard something move in the next 
 room, and she seemed to hear it too, for when 
 she spoke again it was in a softer and more 
 persuasive voice. * It is late,' she said. 
 * Pay me now, and do not wait.' When I 
 heard this I at once gave her a sovereign, 
 which she took without any comment, as 
 though she had not expected more or less.
 
 120 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 However, she rang the coin on a table to 
 test it. No, it was not to test it. The sound 
 of money was a signal, for the next moment 
 the door was opened and a big burly fellow 
 walked into the room and stood before 
 me in his shirt-sleeves. * Hallo ! ' he cried, 
 in the same loud voice as the woman 
 had used — ' Hallo ! What are you doing 
 here with my wife ? ' When I heard this I 
 was at a loss for words. ' You'll have to pay 
 for this,' continued the big fellow, walking 
 up and down the room, and speaking in a 
 voice of suppressed passion. * What are 
 you doing here ? ' ' Ask your wife,' I 
 answered, stepping behind a chair. * You'll 
 have to pay for this before you go from here,' 
 he continued, beginning to throw his arms 
 about wildly. 
 
 " However, I was not to be intimidated, 
 in spite of his size. In fact, I began to look 
 at it as a romantic adventure, and to enjoy 
 it. So I said, with a short laugh — ' I have 
 paid for it already. I paid for a couple of 
 drinks for your wife, brought her home in a 
 cab, and then gave her a sovereign. How 
 much more do you want ? ' The man ap-
 
 BLACKMAIL 121 
 
 peared surprised at this kind of language, 
 but thought he would make another attempt. 
 So, putting on a fierce expression, he said, 
 
 * That won't do for me ; I must have some 
 compensation, or it will be the worse for you.' 
 
 * What can you do ? ' I asked, leaning on 
 the back of the chair. ' You dare not call 
 the police, for your own sake. If you don't 
 let me leave this house quietly,' I said, 
 putting on my cap, * perhaps it will be the 
 worse for you.' When he heard this bold 
 talk he was clearly confounded. At last he 
 said, * Is that the kind of man you are ? ' 
 He asked this in a threatening tone, as though 
 my answer was all he wanted to make him do 
 something desperate. I had no way of 
 judging whether he was a coward or not, 
 but I knew very well that his object was to 
 blackmail me for money, and that a disturb- 
 ance in the house would do him no good. 
 Knowing this, I stepped from behind the 
 chair and said, * Yes, that's the kind of man 
 I am. Don't make any attempt to follow me, 
 but remain where you are.' Saying this I 
 left the room and made my way down the 
 dark stairs. As I was going I could hear the
 
 122 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 man and woman whispering, but they both 
 knew now that they had mistaken their man. 
 They not only made no attempt to follow me, 
 but neither of them jeered or laughed. No 
 doubt they were glad to get rid of me, and 
 considered themselves lucky at the little 
 success they had had. I did not threaten 
 them for the return of the sovereign, for, 
 although I could see that they were both 
 afraid to lay hands on me, yet, for all that, 
 I knew they would rather be murdered than 
 give up the advantage they had gained. I 
 knew that for certain. Although they had 
 not had the success they had hoped for, they 
 had no reason to complain of how they had 
 fared. No doubt the man had expected to 
 blackmail me for several pounds, or all the 
 money I had on me. He thought I would be 
 an easy victim, fearing bodily injury, and 
 disgracing my family, and perhaps losing a 
 good position. If he had known the truth, 
 that I was a stranger in London, that I had 
 no fear of bodily injury, that I was then no 
 more than an adventurer with no good 
 position to lose — if he had known these things, 
 he would not have been surprised at the result.
 
 BLACKMAIL 123 
 
 " When I reached the front door I had to 
 strike a match, so as to see how to open it. 
 However, it was not locked ; there was only 
 a latch to be lifted, and I was then out in the 
 street. As I walked away, thinking of what 
 had happened, I was very much annoyed, 
 and almost felt angry that I had not come to 
 blows. Even if I had received several marks, 
 it would have been some satisfaction to know 
 that I had left other marks behind me. In 
 thinking of this case, I came to the con- 
 clusion that the woman had been to blame 
 for misjudging me. No doubt her object was 
 to find young fools or old men, who could be 
 made easy victims. She had judged me to 
 be a feather-bed young gentleman, who 
 would have given her husband all he had 
 rather than come to blows. I could never 
 understand how she made this mistake, for, 
 although I am small, I have often been taken 
 for a prize-fighter owing to the size of my 
 neck and jaws. This man and woman would 
 not have much difficulty in finding victims, 
 so long as she was careful not to take home 
 rough men. As long as she could find gentle- 
 men to go with her, it was all right. For
 
 124 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 gentlemen, however much courage they may 
 have, would rather be blackmailed than 
 receive marks in a fight — marks that remain 
 for some time and are a disgrace, whatever 
 account is given of them." 
 
 " Thank you for your kind intentions," I 
 said to the stranger, after he had told me 
 this — " but I did not intend to have anything 
 to do with that girl." I then told him how I 
 had become acquainted with her, and how 
 she had sat at my side without the least 
 encouragement.
 
 XI 
 
 The Religious Beggar 
 
 AT this time I paid my passage to Canada, 
 1~\ but when I got there I lost my right 
 foot on a railway, which I left buried in 
 Ontario and returned to England. I was 
 very poor, after the expense of this, and 
 was soon living in a low London slum. How- 
 ever, in spite of my accident, the old spirit 
 to wander seized me, and it was not long 
 before I made up my mind to tramp through 
 England for a few weeks. 
 
 One fine morning I wished my companions 
 good-bye and started on the road. It was 
 not long before the City was behind me and 
 I was walking between green hedges instead 
 of stone walls. I was going along feeling 
 happy, in spite of a little hunger, when I 
 saw an old man sitting under a tree, with 
 his back leaning against the trunk. A thick 
 staff was lying at his side, and he was mum- 
 
 125
 
 126 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 bling some strange words to himself. I could 
 see very well that he was a beggar, so I 
 began a conversation with him. We were 
 going towards Guildford, so I said, " I 
 wonder is Guildford any good ? " — from a 
 beggar's point of view, of course. " Put 
 your trust in the Lord," answered the old 
 man cheerfully ; " He is my Shepherd, I shall 
 not want." Thinking this a strange answer 
 to make, I stared at him for a considerable 
 time. He seemed to be very old, with a 
 wrinkled face and a long white beard, but 
 had a very cheerful expression. In fact, he 
 looked much like a kind old grandfather 
 surrounded by children. Being curious to 
 know more of him, I asked if he was going 
 that way — towards Guildford. " I am," he 
 answered, rising at once with little diffi- 
 culty ; "I am, and if it is God's will we shall 
 be there in two hours." 
 
 " How long have you been on the road ? " 
 I asked, as we trudged along together, he 
 with an activity that surprised me. " I 
 have been on the road all my life," he an- 
 swered. ** My father and my mother were 
 on the road when I was born. They are
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 127 
 
 dead now, and in Heaven, I trust ; where I 
 hope to join them some day, Amen. For 
 I have always done my best to lead a straight 
 life — I never steal anything, having too much 
 faith in people's kindness. I have never 
 used bad language against people that refuse 
 to help me. I thank those that refuse as 
 well as those that give. I have pity in my 
 heart for the poor and forgive the haughty 
 rich their cold abuse. But naturally, I feel 
 a little indignation when they tell me — an 
 old man of seventy — to work for my living. 
 However, I do not answer them in a passion, 
 and always leave them with more sorrow 
 than anger in my heart." 
 
 When I heard the old man continue in 
 this strain, I was greatly taken by surprise. 
 It was quite clear to me that he had lived 
 the life of a beggar so long, that he now 
 began to regard it as a true and honest one. 
 Thinking of this, I let him continue without 
 making any comment. In fact, he was 
 determined to have his say, and any ques- 
 tions that I put to him would, no doubt, have 
 been passed over. 
 
 '* Yes," he continued, " I always do the
 
 128 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 right thing, as far as it hes in my power ; 
 doing my best to assist others to get work if 
 they want it. For that reason, no man can 
 accuse me of being selfish. Every bit of 
 information that relates to work, which I 
 gather on my travels, is stored for the benefit 
 of my fellow-man. So that, under these 
 blue heavens above us ! I say that no man 
 can accuse me of being selfish and unkind. 
 I have begged for and fed scores of men 
 during my life, knowing that a good deed 
 will be rewarded at last, and that what I 
 have done will come back a thousandfold. 
 I have taken pity on many a new beginner 
 and shown him the way to beg, so that I 
 can die with a clean conscience on that 
 score, having faith that these things will have 
 been put to my account when the day of 
 judgment comes. I have taken many a man 
 in hand, and taught him the way to beg, who 
 otherwise would have had a very hard time. 
 The kindness I meet with on every side often 
 brings tears to my eyes, and I often sit alone 
 praying for the fine people I have met. Of 
 course, I know very well that it is the duty 
 of all Christian people to see that I want for
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 129 
 
 nothing, but still I cannot help feeling 
 affected. Sometimes I meet with people 
 whose conduct I cannot understand, and 
 who are determined not to understand mine. 
 Ah, well ; never mind. Let God judge 
 between us. We are all His lambs." 
 
 How long the old man would have con- 
 tinued talking in this manner I cannot say, 
 but he had scarcely uttered the last few words 
 when an accident happened which almost 
 took his breath away. For at that instant 
 a stranger who was riding a bicycle made a 
 sudden swerve and fell almost at our feet. 
 It may have been that the man was near- 
 sighted or lost in thought, and was close to 
 us before he was well aware, and then made 
 a sudden swerve, so as not to ride into us ; 
 or perhaps it was owing to the slippery con- 
 dition of the road. Whatever it was, we 
 were suddenly brought to a silent halt by 
 seeing a man lying in the mud at our feet. 
 " I hope to God you are not hurt, master," 
 said my old friend, assisting the man to his 
 feet, whom we could now see was a well- 
 dressed gentleman, and probably a man of 
 great wealth. " You have had a very 
 
 K
 
 130 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 narrow escape, by the Almighty's grace ! " 
 cried the old man, seeing the gentleman 
 standing erect and, except for the mud on 
 his clothes, looking nothing the worse for his 
 fall. As the old man was saying the last few 
 words he took out of his pocket a clean white 
 handkerchief, which he placed in the gentle- 
 man's hand. The latter took it, wiped his 
 hands as clean as possible, threw the handker- 
 chief into the hedge, mounted his bicycle 
 again and rode off without uttering one word 
 of thanks. I looked at the old man and saw 
 that the working of his face was hardly likely 
 to lead to Scripture quotation. However, 
 after a long pause, in which he seemed to 
 struggle with his feelings, he said calmly, 
 " The Lord forgive him ! I will not curse this 
 man nor utter threats ; for I am in a Christian 
 land and am not a heathen. But that is not 
 the way to reward a kindness — a sixpence 
 would have been little enough. This proves 
 to us that we do not know, until it is too late, 
 who to leave in the mud or who to assist out 
 of it. However, I shall not want." 
 
 This incident had happened near a house, 
 and the lady of it was now standing at the
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 131 
 
 door, and had probably seen all that had 
 happened. The old man no sooner saw her 
 standing there than he went to the hedge 
 and, after getting the handkerchief again, 
 made his way towards her. As I did not 
 follow him I cannot say what words passed 
 between them. All I know is that I saw 
 him enter the house and, of course, walked 
 on and sat under a tree to wait for him. 
 
 In about fifteen minutes I saw him coming, 
 having in his hand a large slice of bread and 
 butter, which he said the lady had been kind 
 enough to send for me. " I told the lady all 
 about it," he said; ''and she — being a real 
 Christian — rewarded me with a cup of tea, 
 some bread and butter, cake and a penny. 
 She also gave me another pocket-handker- 
 chief. And while I was eating, her daughter 
 played like a little angel on the piano. Put 
 your trust in the Lord, young man, and thou 
 shalt not want." 
 
 " I thought you were going to curse that 
 gentleman," I ventured, " when he took 
 your handkerchief and went off without a 
 word of thanks. It was certainly a hard- 
 hearted piece of conduct, for he could plainly
 
 132 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 see that we were both on the road and in 
 extreme want." " Yes, I had to fight the 
 devil," the old man admitted, " and by 
 God's power, I won. No person ever assisted 
 me without having my blessing ; and I also 
 bless those with willing hearts and empty 
 hands. The hearts of the uncharitable have 
 often melted through hearing my blessing. 
 My father and my mother — now in Heaven, 
 I trust ; where I hope to join them some day, 
 Amen — always taught me to do this. * For,' 
 said they, ' people cannot give if they have 
 not got it ; and you may call at their houses 
 again, when they are better off, and be re- 
 warded. But if you abused them, they are 
 apt to recognize and refuse you, though they 
 have become much richer since the last 
 meeting.' Such were my parents' instruc- 
 tions. I am an old man now, with my own 
 experience, and have always tried to lead 
 a pure, straightforward life. As long as I 
 have a tongue to ask a lady for a piece of 
 soap, I will not steal it from her back door. 
 I have had my afflictions, to be sure, through 
 bad trade and workmen's strikes, but have 
 still managed by God's grace to keep my
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 133 
 
 body nourished and a contented mind. He 
 who feeds the small sparrow will not be blind 
 to the wants of one made in His own image. 
 I have not wasted my time in riotous living, 
 like many others, but have had a pure and 
 simple Hfe. I have asked and, by the grace 
 of God, have received ; I have knocked, and 
 the door has been opened unto me ; I have 
 prayed, and my prayers have been answered. 
 Even people in almshouses have fed me, and 
 I have blest such kindness with tears in my 
 eyes. The widow has given her mite, and I 
 have comforted her ; so much so that she 
 has often, through the power of the Holy 
 Ghost, rewarded me with her dead husband's 
 clothes. Aye, I have met with much kindness 
 in this world — even the little orphan has 
 parted with her farthing, for my sake ! The 
 Lord is my Shepherd : I shall not want." 
 
 Now, there is a joke among tramps — " that 
 they work for Johnny Walker, the road sur- 
 veyor." With this joke in my mind, I said 
 to the old man — " Johnny Walker, the road 
 surveyor, has been a kind master to you, for 
 you appear hardy enough." He looked hard 
 at me for a few seconds after he had heard
 
 134 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 this. He seemed to understand the joke, 
 but not to appreciate it. At last he an- 
 swered — scorning to give Johnny Walker 
 the credit for his good health — " The Lord 
 has been my Guide, and will be until I join 
 my parents who are in Heaven, I trust, 
 where I hope to join them some day, Amen." 
 " Do you like this wandering life ? " I 
 asked. " Don't you ever lose your appetite, 
 your sleep, or feel ill ? " " My appetite is 
 always good," he answered cheerfully. " I 
 do not turn against bacon because it is fat. 
 Thank God for bacon, I say in all sincerity, 
 whether it be fat or lean. Fresh air gives me 
 such an appetite that I could swallow mouth- 
 fuls of dry bread with almost as much ease 
 as others drink soup. Of course, I do not 
 have to do so, for the Lord provides me with 
 better food. I hear of people getting fever 
 through drinking bad water, but I have 
 drunk, on a hot summer's day, a bellyful 
 of ditch-water, and felt no harm. As for my 
 sleep, it is splendid indeed. I could and have 
 slept comfortable with rats running over my 
 face all the night. I can sleep in peace and 
 comfort anywhere, under a tree, in a coke
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 135 
 
 oven or manger — the Son of God was born in 
 a manger. I have slept on graves, without 
 the least fear of ghosts. One night I slept on 
 one near the roadside, behind a stone wall. 
 Hearing some steps coming, I got up, looked 
 over the wall just as a man came near, and 
 said — ' Master, can you tell me the time ? ' 
 The man gave one look and, without making 
 the least answer, took to his heels and ran. 
 Seeing this it dawned upon my mind that 
 he had taken me for a ghost, for he dis- 
 appeared so suddenly that I thought he must 
 surely be one. Although this incident re- 
 minded me of ghosts, nevertheless, having 
 a clean, honest conscience, and having said 
 my prayers, I knew that the Lord would 
 preserve me from all evil spirits. So I slept 
 on that grave until daybreak, and no ghost 
 ever crossed my innocent dreams. As for 
 my body, it is like leather. I can put on a 
 wet shirt and let it dry on my flesh, whereas 
 a shirt merely damp has killed others. Others 
 get wet through, and will die if they sit in 
 their wet clothes ; but I, with only the 
 clothes I am wearing, can get wet through 
 and be saved, by the grace of God ! from all
 
 136 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 harm. They take cold and their teeth ache ; 
 but mine, few as they are now, can chatter 
 with the cold, and I can still pity others in 
 pain. Only one part of my body has ever 
 suffered, and that is my poor feet. And yet, 
 for all that, a nail in my boot can scratch 
 my foot and not bring on blood-poisoning, as 
 with others. I have been wearing other 
 people's clothes all my life, and I am now, by 
 God's grace ! in my seventieth year, yet I 
 have never once caught any disease. All this 
 comes of being hardened to the weather, 
 much walking, seldom sitting near fires, and 
 abounding faith in a better life to come." 
 
 By this time we were within the town's 
 boundaries. In fact, we were so far into 
 Guildford, and had passed so many houses, that 
 I thought it about time to stop and beg the 
 price of my bed, before I got into the business 
 streets. With this intention I brought the 
 old man to a halt and told him what I was 
 going to do. I had taken out of my pocket 
 a few pairs of laces, and when the old man 
 saw them, he asked, " Have you got a license 
 for selling ? " " Yes," I answered. " Well, 
 you are quite safe, for which the Lord be
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 137 
 
 praised," he said. " And what are you going 
 to do ? " I asked. " I have nothing to sell," 
 he answered ; " but will call on the shop- 
 keepers and ask them as they value their 
 souls, to help an old man to the price of his 
 bed." " You will be arrested," I said, with 
 some alarm. " That has happened a good 
 many times," answered the old man. " For 
 in my long life on the road, I have been 
 persecuted by the police and suffered martyr- 
 dom in prison more times than I can very 
 well remember. However, here I am, an old 
 man of seventy years, with his spirit still 
 unbroken, and ready to serve more time — if 
 it is His will." 
 
 However much I was interested in this old 
 sinner, it was no time now for longer con- 
 versation. I did not know but what I would 
 have great trouble in getting the price of my 
 bed and enough to eat ; and I did not like 
 going to houses after it was dark. So I in- 
 quired of him as to where the lodging-houses 
 were. He then mentioned one, where he 
 intended to go himself, and which was called 
 The Model Lodging-house. After being told 
 that it was situated at the other end of the
 
 138 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 town, I felt quite satisfied, for Guildford was 
 not so large as to give me much trouble to 
 find it. 
 
 I found Guildford to be a very good town. 
 In spite of it being the end of the week, when 
 the working-classes would not have much 
 money, I still had little difficulty in getting 
 tenpence-halfpenny and several parcels of 
 food, which were ample to carry me on to the 
 next day. I was told afterwards, when in the 
 lodging-house kitchen, that I had been around 
 the workhouse, and that that was really the 
 best part of the town for begging. When I 
 heard this it appeared strange to me that that 
 part of the town should be the best. But on 
 reflection I accounted for it in this way : 
 the scores of tramps that went to the work- 
 house for their bed, would not dare to be seen 
 begging near it. They would not go near the 
 workhouse until the}^ were ready to enter it, 
 and the next morning they would leave that 
 locality as soon as possible. For that reason 
 the houses were not touched by workhouse 
 tramps, which made them all the better for 
 those true beggars that lived in lodging- 
 houses.
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 139 
 
 After getting through with my business, I 
 made my way towards the lodging-house, 
 which I had no difficulty in finding. How- 
 ever, as good fortune would have it, I was 
 the last man to pay for a bed ; for another 
 beggar that followed close at my heels was 
 told that the house was full, and had to go 
 elsewhere. When I entered the kitchen, I 
 saw my old friend seated and smoking a pipe. 
 No doubt he knew a number of those present, 
 but he did not seem to care to talk with them. 
 But when he saw me his face brightened, and 
 he motioned me to a seat at his side. " I 
 was only just in time," I said, "for I have 
 taken the last bed." " It was by God's 
 favour," he answered in a low voice, and 
 looking around, as though he did not wish 
 to be heard. No doubt the old fellow had 
 met with more scorn than encouragement, 
 and was now reserved in the presence of more 
 than one. 
 
 " Which way are you going ? " I asked, 
 after I had made a pot of tea and offered him 
 a cup. " I don't know yet," he answered ; 
 "but whichever way I go, I have been that way 
 before, for I am now in my seventieth year.
 
 140 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 and have been on the road ever since I was 
 born." As he did not appear in any way 
 interested in my travels, I said rather in- 
 differently, " I am going towards the West 
 of England." " Devonshire ? " he asked. 
 "No," I said, ''Gloucestershire." "What 
 made you come this way," he asked, " in- 
 stead of making direct for Maidenhead and 
 Reading ? " " Well," I answered, " I have 
 only now made up my mind to go in that 
 direction. Perhaps you can tell me how I 
 can get on the Bath road from here." The 
 old man at once began to instruct me, and 
 it seemed that he not only knew every town, 
 but every tiny little village in England. 
 Among other interesting items he told me 
 to beware of a certain small town in Glouces- 
 tershire, that only had one common lodging- 
 house, which was kept by a sinner. On 
 hearing the old man's explanation, I was 
 astonished. It seemed that the lodging-house 
 keeper had such decided political opinions 
 that he questioned every traveller that came 
 as to whether he was a Liberal or a Conserva- 
 tive. Every poor beggar that arrived would 
 be greeted in this way : " Before I take your
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 141 
 
 money and let you have a bed, I must know 
 whether you are a Liberal or a Conservative." 
 If the beggar's answer did not please him, 
 this strange landlord would refuse to take 
 his fourpence and let him have a bed, and 
 the poor fellow would have to walk miles to 
 the next town that had a lodging-house, or 
 lie down anywhere. Of course this did not 
 happen very often, for when beggars meet 
 on the road they always tell one another 
 these things. The consequence was that 
 forty-nine beggars out of fifty would know 
 which to be. The landlord, as silly as he was, 
 must have known this, seeing that he always 
 had the same answer to his question — but 
 he still inquired whether a would-be lodger 
 was a Liberal or a Conservative. 
 
 How the poor are humbugged ! Every 
 man had to pay fourpence for his bed, what- 
 ever his political opinions were. This, no 
 doubt, was one of those bad cases of a man 
 keeping a common lodging-house just for a 
 hobby, who had other property that made 
 him indifferent as to whether his house was 
 empty or full. He was like the rich landlady 
 who will keep her house next door empty.
 
 142 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 before she will let it to a woman who has a 
 young child or a grown-up daughter that plays 
 music, who keeps a dog, or who has a husband 
 that weeds the garden on a Sabbath morn. 
 Suppose rich people were asked whether they 
 were Liberals or Conservatives when they 
 went to hotels ? God help the poor beggar ! 
 When I heard this I could hardly believe 
 it, and in fact expressed some doubt. " It 
 is the truth, and nothing but the truth, as 
 God is my judge," said the old man, turning 
 up his eyes. " How did you manage about 
 it ? " I asked ; " for I know that you are 
 honest and would not be humbugged by a 
 question of that kind." " The way I man- 
 aged," said the old man, " caused me to 
 sleep under a tree all night." Saying which 
 he began to puff at his pipe, as though he 
 did not wish to say any more on that par- 
 ticular subject. However, I persisted in 
 asking him what had happened and, at last, 
 taking the pipe out of his mouth, he began. 
 " Well," he said, "I had heard about that 
 lodging-house keeper, long before I went to 
 his house. But seeing that the night was 
 warm and God's Heaven looked beautiful,
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 143 
 
 I did not care much whether I had a bed or 
 not. So when I saw him and asked if the 
 house was full, he said no, it was not. * But,* 
 said he, * before I take your money, I want 
 to know whether you are a Liberal or a Con- 
 servative.' * Master,' I answered, ' I am 
 an honest man with a clean conscience, and 
 in the Almighty's hands. It does not matter 
 in the least whether I am a Liberal or a Con- 
 servative — I am one of God's lambs.' I 
 had hardly uttered these words when he 
 shouted, * You're a damn old fool ! ' and 
 slammed the door in my face. So I had to 
 sleep under a tree all night. However, that 
 did not matter much, for when I looked at 
 the stars in Heaven, I felt as though I was 
 God's proud shepherd in charge of all those 
 flocks. Of course the man is no Christian, 
 and it is only by the extraordinary mercy of 
 God that he holds such a masterly position." 
 In the course of conversation he told me 
 that he had worked for a little over a year 
 in his early days. ** When I was a young 
 man," he said, " I went to church every 
 Sabbath day, morning and evening, and in 
 the afternoon conducted a Bible class. At
 
 144 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 that time I earned my living as a shop- 
 assistant. But one day I was standing 
 behind the counter, lost in prayer, when the 
 proprietor came up to me and said, " * What 
 are you doing now, staring and working your 
 mouth like that ; can't you see there are 
 customers waiting to be served ? ' 'I am 
 praying to the Lord,' I answered quietly ; 
 * the Lord, whose doings are above the com- 
 mon demands of this world. My thoughts 
 are in Heaven, and far away from your shop.' 
 But I had scarcely uttered this mild reproof 
 than the proprietor broke out into the most 
 fearful blasphemy. * To hell with the Lord ! ' 
 he cried. ' Do a bit of work for me, you 
 solemn-looking scoundrel. Do a bit of work 
 for me, and to hell with the Lord ! You are 
 paid to serve in this shop, and not to have 
 thoughts in Heaven.' When I heard this I was 
 astounded. * Pay me my wages,' I said, at 
 last ; * the Lord is my Master, and Him, 
 above all others, I serve.' Saying this I put 
 on my hat and coat, ready to leave at once. 
 However, he would not pay me what was 
 due, which was four shillings a day, that 
 being the third day of the week. So I went
 
 THE RELIGIOUS BEGGAR 145 
 
 to the till and, taking out twelve shillings, 
 said, * I am now paid, and quit you for ever. 
 May the Lord have mercy on your soul ! ' 
 Ever since that day, more than forty years 
 ago, I have had no human master." 
 
 " You have been a beggar ever since 
 then ? " I asked. " I have served the Lord, 
 and Him only, ever since then," the old man 
 answered ; " and I have wanted for nothing, 
 in His hands, though I am now in my 
 seventieth year."
 
 XII 
 
 My Disgrace 
 
 THE old man left Guildford the next 
 morning, but I decided to stay there 
 for a few more days. For not only was the 
 town itself good, but there were several 
 villages within two or three miles of it that 
 were also good, two in particular — one on 
 the road to Godalming, and the other on the 
 road to Leatherhead. This information I 
 gathered the night before, after the old man 
 had gone to bed and left me sitting in the 
 lodging-house kitchen. I happened to be 
 sitting near two beggars, one of whom had 
 a wooden leg and was called Peggy, and 
 could hear all they said. They had both 
 been in Guildford for over a week, and still 
 made no mention of going elsewhere, so I 
 thought that I could surely manage to live 
 there for a few days. 
 
 At this lodging-house there were quite a 
 
 146
 
 MY DISGRACE 147 
 
 number of beggars that knew one another, 
 although they did not travel together. There 
 was Peggy with his wooden leg, and another 
 called Cockney ; there was one called Yank 
 and another called Darkey, owing to his dark 
 complexion — and a number more. As far as 
 I could learn none of these men were real 
 downrighters, but all of them had some cheap 
 trifle to sell. Perhaps the only real down- 
 righter that had slept there the previous 
 night was the old man whom I had just 
 parted with. 
 
 It seems that nearly all beggars whom we 
 meet with nowadays have taken to carrying 
 trifles to sell, and in England the downrighter 
 is passing away. In new countries every 
 beggar is a downrighter, and it is a sure sign 
 of a country's decline when beggars have to 
 resort to carrying cheap laces, pins, needles, 
 and self-made novelties. I could not help 
 but notice this in America, when I was 
 leaving that country, how good beggars were 
 taking to other methods than straightforward 
 begging — making fans out of pinewood, and 
 other things. Nearly all our downrighters in 
 England go into workhouses, and the beggars
 
 148 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 that carry a few things in their hands live 
 in lodging-houses. Therefore, a man that 
 neither carries things to sell nor goes into a 
 workhouse, but can beg the price of his bed 
 every day, is the only true beggar. But he 
 is very rare indeed ; for a common lodging- 
 house in the provinces may contain twenty 
 beggars, and only one of them be a down- 
 righter. Of course, there may be some street- 
 singers who are closely akin to downrighters 
 — but all the others carry cheap things to 
 sell. In the past all beggars were down- 
 righters ; but in these days things can be 
 bought so cheap, that even beggars can buy 
 and sell at a large profit. Birmingham has, 
 by her cheap goods, turned many a good 
 downright beggar into a pedlar, which is a 
 great pity. Still, it must be admitted that 
 much good begging can be done under the 
 cover of selling these cheap goods, which are 
 no trouble to carry. There is no law to 
 prevent us from offering to sell laces to a 
 lady out walking, knowing that she will not 
 take them, but can be coaxed into giving 
 money. We can also offer to sell pins to a 
 gentleman on horseback. Why does the
 
 MY DISGRACE 149 
 
 beggar woman offer to sell you a dozen pegs 
 for a penny, when you — a fine lady — are 
 out walking ? She knows her business. She 
 knows very well that she can do better on the 
 country road and in the street, by accosting 
 pedestrians, than by going to houses that 
 would buy her pegs. Never be surprised 
 when a man asks you to buy a pair of laces, 
 takes your penny, thanks you, and then 
 walks away without giving you the laces — 
 never be surprised, I say, when this is done, 
 for that man knows his business. 
 
 Although Peggy, Cockney, and Yank 
 seemed to be quiet, unassuming fellows, I 
 cannot say that I looked with any great 
 favour on the man called Darkey. He 
 seemed to be always boasting of what he had 
 done or was going to do. For instance, he 
 kept harping on the same subject for more 
 than an hour, which was that he intended 
 to beg himself a pair of socks. " Someone 
 will have to give me a pair of socks to day," 
 he said emphatically, more than once. Now, 
 there was really no need for all this talk, for 
 a real good beggar would have made less fuss 
 of begging even a suit of clothes. Later in
 
 150 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 the day this boaster was to gloat over my 
 disgrace, which I will relate in due course. 
 
 It was Saturday morning and the clock 
 struck ten when I left the lodging-house. I 
 had left nearly all the beggars there, for they 
 did not want to spoil good houses by going to 
 them before dinner on pay-day. The fact of 
 the matter was, that I did not go out for 
 active business, but to take my bearings of 
 the town. However, I got tired of walking 
 about, and seeing three or four short streets 
 of small houses, I thought I would try one 
 or two houses just for curiosity. It was 
 lucky for me that I did ; for it happened that 
 these houses were inhabited by railway men 
 that received their pay on a Friday night. 
 The consequence was that I went from house 
 to house and, at dinner-time, before other 
 beggars had began work, I had something 
 like two shillings in my pocket. So I returned 
 at once to the lodging-house, made a cup of 
 tea, and had a good dinner on some of the 
 food that had been given me. I have often 
 heard people say that they could have no 
 appetite for food that came out of strange 
 houses, but those people are home-dwellers,
 
 MY DISGRACE 151 
 
 and they can have no idea of the appetite 
 that comes from being so much out in the 
 open air. Darkey was just leaving as I en- 
 tered, saying, " Someone has to give me a 
 pair of socks before I return." 
 
 After having had a good dinner and paying 
 for my bed, I went out again, but had great 
 difficulty in starting to work, knowing that I 
 had so much money in my pocket. I began 
 to think that I had done a very foolish thing 
 by stopping for dinner, and that I ought to 
 have continued while in the mood, and 
 finished early for tea. At last I summoned 
 up enough courage to make another start ; 
 after which I continued to go from house to 
 house until I heard the town bell clock strike 
 five. I had just then been to the last house 
 in a street, so I went to the alley at the back 
 and counted my earnings. To my surprise 
 I had four shilhngs and elevenpence, and my 
 pockets full of food. This is splendid, thought 
 I, but I will make the amount five shillings 
 exactly. But strangely enough, although I 
 had done so well, with so much ease, I had 
 so much difficulty in getting the last penny 
 that I was almost afraid I would never
 
 152 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 succeed, and thought to give up my attempts, 
 several times. I don't know whether the 
 street was bad, or that I had now put on a 
 confidence that people did not like ; what- 
 ever it was, it was with great difficulty that I 
 got that other penny. However, I succeeded 
 at last, and then started with a contented 
 mind towards the lodging-house, happy to 
 think that I could now lie idle for two or three 
 days. 
 
 It was now that I began to think of 
 Darkey and his boast about begging a pair 
 of socks. What is the matter with me not 
 trying to beg a shirt, thought I — I need one 
 sadly. I knew that it would not be wise to 
 dally, or I would never make the attempt ; 
 so, obeying the sudden impulse, I at once 
 rang the bell and stood waiting at the door 
 of a nice little house. In a few seconds the 
 door was opened, and I was confronted by a 
 fine comfortable-looking young woman with a 
 very charming expression. Telling her that 
 I was in great need of a shirt, I asked her if 
 she would be so kind as to give me one of her 
 husband's or brother's. " I have no brother 
 here," she answered sweetly, " and my
 
 MY DISGRACE 153 
 
 husband's old shirts have already been given 
 away." This young woman spoke so sweetly 
 and she looked so charming and kind, that 
 I could not possibly take no for an answer. 
 However, she kept on saying — " No, I cannot 
 find you a shirt to day." But I began talking 
 and talking until at last she went in, leaving 
 me in the middle of a very moving speech. 
 Seeing that she had left the door wide open 
 I, of course, took it for granted that I had 
 succeeded in talking her out of one of her 
 husband's shirts, and waited. After waiting 
 for over three minutes, I became aware of a 
 lot of tittering going on inside the house and, 
 happening to look towards the window saw 
 to my surprise a younger woman looking 
 between the curtains and laughing. I must 
 have stood there for over four minutes, when 
 the first-mentioned young woman appeared 
 with a bundle which she placed in my out- 
 stretched hands, saying, " There ! " after 
 which she closed the door before I had time 
 to thank her. Thinking that the two young 
 women were delighted with my perseverance 
 as a beggar, and feeling flattered at their 
 good opinion, I made all haste to the lodging-
 
 154 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 house. On the way there, I could think of 
 nothing else than that young woman's good- 
 natured beauty, and how sweetly modest 
 she appeared with it. For when she gave 
 me the bundle she was blushing like a young 
 girl, and she was too shy to wait and hear 
 my thanks. 
 
 At last I reached the lodging-house and 
 found quite a number of beggars present, 
 among whom were Peggy, Cockney and 
 Darkey. When I entered the kitchen, all 
 eyes turned to see who I was ; and when I 
 threw my bundle on the table, no doubt 
 they were all curious to know what it con- 
 tained. In fact, Peggy was so curious that 
 he asked me point-blank. He seemed a nice 
 little fellow, and I could not possibly be 
 offended when he asked pleasantly, " What 
 have you got there, Shorty ? Glad to see 
 that you have had luck of some kind." " Oh, 
 I have only begged a common shirt," I 
 said indifferently, so as to show Darkey that 
 other men could beg clothes and make no 
 fuss about it. Saying this I opened the 
 bundle and, taking the shirt out, which was 
 white, shook it with a wide sweep. The
 
 MY DISGRACE 155 
 
 material was rather thin, but what astonished 
 me most, when I shook it out, was its length. 
 All at once I heard a shrill laugh, as a parrot 
 would make, and the next instant Cockney 
 shrieked in a high voice, which drew the 
 attention of every one present — " Look ! 
 Lord, if he ain't been and begged a woman's 
 shift ! " 
 
 Here was a disgrace for a beggar ! Fool 
 that I was ; why did I not take no for an 
 answer, when the young woman said that 
 she had no shirt to give away ? Why did 
 I force her, by not going away from her 
 door, to get rid of me by giving away one of 
 her own shifts ! It was a terrible disgrace, 
 and I certainly deserved it through my own 
 folly. 
 
 However, I am very pleased to say that 
 Peggy did not belie my first estimation of 
 his character. For instead of laughing me to 
 ridicule, as the others seemed inclined to do, 
 he began in a serious tone to suggest how 
 necessary it was for all beggars to immediately 
 examine all parcels that came into their 
 hands. "It is not wise for him to carry for 
 hours a pair of boots or trousers that may
 
 156 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 be worse than his own, and which he can 
 neither wear nor sell," said Peggy. " A 
 beggar is likely to meet with a serious dis- 
 appointment after he has been for hours 
 congratulating himself on success, and it is 
 only after he has experienced a great number 
 of disappointments of this kind that he 
 becomes wise. Sometimes a woman tells 
 him that she has only bread in the house, 
 but he would not be wise to throw away her 
 parcel before he has examined it ; for a 
 number of women say this so as to make 
 a man confess that he is hungry enough to 
 eat anything. She is almost certain to not 
 only butter the bread, but to find a small 
 piece of cheese, meat or cake to go with it. 
 When I was a new beginner in the town of 
 Coventry, I called one day at a house and 
 received a large paper-bag. Judging by its 
 size, I thought there was no need to go else- 
 where, seeing that I already had the price 
 of my bed, and that that parcel would be 
 more than enough for two meals. But when 
 I returned to the lodging-house, I discovered 
 to my disgust that the paper-bag consisted 
 of nothing but twenty or thirty dry crusts
 
 MY DISGRACE 157 
 
 of bread. That experience not only taught 
 me, what it teaches every other beggar, not 
 to judge a parcel of food by its weight and 
 size, but to examine each parcel as soon as 
 possible, for there are such things as heavy 
 bare bones. No man, however timid a 
 beggar he might be, would have been satis- 
 fied with dry bread in a town as large as 
 Coventry." 
 
 This little speech was quite interesting, 
 and I was very pleased to hear Peggy con- 
 tinue. " One disappointment that often 
 befalls a beggar is to find that a good house 
 has changed tenants. I knew one house 
 near Slough, where I had received threepence 
 on three occasions. But on going to the house 
 for the fourth time, after an interval of six 
 months, I could not get an answer. It had 
 never once occurred to me that the house 
 could change in any way. For a full minute 
 after I had knocked, I stood like one turned 
 to stone, not knowing what to do. However, 
 I recovered at last, but would not believe 
 that the house was empty ; so I went looking 
 into the outhouses, knocked again at the 
 back door, then at the side door, and ended
 
 158 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 by ringing the front door bell. At last I was 
 forced to believe the truth, that no one 
 was in the house, not even a caretaker, and 
 had to go away. But I was so dissatisfied 
 with this idea that the lady had really gone, 
 that, after begging the rest of the village, I 
 returned to that house and again went 
 through the same manoeuvres. It is strange 
 the great amount of faith that beggars place 
 in certain people and houses. I have known 
 a beggar to idle the whole day in a lodging- 
 house kitchen, until evening, because he 
 knew of a certain house that was good for 
 sixpence — twopence over the price of his 
 bed. It would never once cross his mind 
 that the lady or gentleman might be ill, or 
 gone on a holiday, or changed their address 
 for good. But confidence of this kind does 
 not do a beggar much harm ; for if a servant 
 tries to drive him away from a house that he 
 knows has been good for money, giving him 
 a little food instead, he will go straight from 
 the back door to the front and ask to see the 
 mistress or master. In fact, when a beggar 
 knows from past experience that a house is 
 good for money, he will not take no for an
 
 MY DISGRACE 159 
 
 answer. He is almost ready for anything — 
 a long, moving speech, whines, sighs, tears, 
 and even threats and abuse. He will fight 
 hard for his rights, and will not cease though 
 threatened with guns, dogs, or constables. 
 Of course, this is very foolish in one way ; 
 for a good beggar would do much better by 
 going at once to strange houses, instead of 
 wasting his time at one that has been good 
 in the past, and has either changed tenants 
 or turned hard-hearted." 
 
 After uttering these wise sentences, Peggy 
 made a pause. However, in a few moments 
 he began to relate an experience of his own, 
 to show how near he had been to being fooled 
 by a woman ; an incident which made mine 
 with the shift completely forgotten. 
 
 " When I went to a house in Bedford," he 
 began, " I only just saved myself from a dis- 
 appointment that would have made me the 
 laughing-stock of the whole lodging-house. 
 Seeing a small, detached house, surrounded 
 with trees, I opened the gate and knocked at 
 the door. It was opened almost at once, as 
 though I had been seen coming, and a middle- 
 aged woman stood before me, shaking her head
 
 i6o THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 and sighing. * Ah,' said she, to my surprise 
 — ' Ah, I heard your step, and it reminded 
 me of my dear first husband.' Thinking 
 this very strange, for I had a common wooden 
 leg that made a noise on the stones, I stood 
 looking at her, waiting for an explanation. 
 However, she did not think it necessary to 
 give me one but, without saying another 
 word, put a penny into my hand. I thanked 
 her and was on the point of leaving, when she 
 said impulsively, ' Wait here a minute.' So 
 I stood waiting, thinking she was gone to get 
 me some food. In a little while she came 
 back, carrying a very long paper parcel, 
 which she put into my hands, saying, * It 
 will come useful when your own is broken or 
 worn out. Take it, and God bless you ! It 
 is a gift from the departed.' Being much 
 impressed by these words, which were uttered 
 in a very solemn tone, I took hold of the 
 parcel without the least suspicion of what it 
 was. But, of course, I had scarcely had it 
 in my hands and felt it, than I knew it to be 
 her first husband's wooden leg. In a case of 
 this kind a man has to be measured and 
 fitted, which I explained to her, after which I
 
 MY DISGRACE i6i 
 
 thanked her for her kind intention. I need 
 hardly say what a great disappointment this 
 was to me, for it occurred to me once that 
 I was going to have her first husband's suit 
 of clothes. 
 
 " Yes," continued Peggy, " these incidents 
 prove how necessary it is for a beggar to be 
 very careful of what he receives. If he gets 
 a good article that does not fit him, nor can 
 be made to fit, he can easily sell it in the 
 lodging-house, or to the poor people that 
 live near it. But let him be careful not to 
 encumber himself with things that he has 
 to throw away at last, after carrying them 
 about for half a day or more. Shorty's 
 experience with this shift would not have 
 been half so ridiculous as mine, if I had 
 carried that leg to a lodging-house, thinking 
 it was a suit of clothes. How the lodgers 
 would have laughed ! I have now been on 
 the road too long to be deceived in that 
 manner." 
 
 Hearing Peggy express himself in this way 
 put me in a good humour again. However, 
 what was a most agreeable surprise to me 
 was to see that Darke}^ did not in any 
 
 M
 
 i62 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 wa}' exult in my discomfiture. In fact, he 
 seemed to take it as a matter of course, and 
 my second impression of him was much 
 better than my first. 
 
 There happened to be several women in 
 the lodging-house, so I asked a ver}^ respect- 
 able-looking woman if she was in need of a 
 shift, and she said " Yes." So I gave it to 
 her, being ver}^ glad to get rid of it. 
 
 As I was now on tramp, I thought my 
 adventures among women were at an end 
 for some time. For most of the women were 
 married ; others, who were not particularly 
 \irtuous, were repulsive in appearance, and 
 that was the reason wh}- they were on tramp 
 — the}' ha\'ing no charms to make commerce 
 of. So I had no thought of women when I 
 was on the road, and travelled alone, with 
 the exception of a male companion now and 
 then, if one happened to be going my way 
 for a few miles. ]\Ioreover, when a man is 
 on the road he soon loses all sensual 
 thoughts ; plain food and hing on the earth 
 will soon take away those unhealthy passions 
 that are bred of rich hot meals and cushioned 
 chairs. A man's thoughts are calmer and
 
 MY DISGRACE 163 
 
 more steady in the open air ; the sun does 
 not breed so many voluptuous dreams as 
 the fire indoors ; and the beauty of a hving 
 woman outdoors does not give him the same 
 unhealthy passion as the picture of one in his 
 room, when he is a bachelor and lives alone. 
 
 For these reasons I had no thought of 
 women, but, for all that, I got into trouble 
 with one of them without knowing it, and 
 came near being stabbed by a jealous old 
 man. At this house there was one couple 
 that seemed a fixture. It was an old man 
 of about seventy years, very thin and shaky, 
 who seemed to be a farm labourer — and his 
 wife Emma, an untidy woman of about 
 thirty-live. Wlion I heard her Christian 
 name mentioned so often, by landlady and 
 lodgers, I knew very well that she had been 
 there for some time. She seemed to be a 
 woman of very little thought, her tongue 
 running all the time, from complaint to com- 
 plaint. Of course, it was for this reason, 
 that she was a thoughtless, foolish woman, 
 that she had married a man so very much 
 older than herself, and as poor. Her con- 
 tinual whines and complaints made her the
 
 i64 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 laughing-stock of the kitchen, but she had 
 no more dignity to offend than sense of 
 humour to save herself. As her husband 
 only earned a few shillings a week, she had 
 to assist his money by going out herself and 
 selhng watercresses, or other things in their 
 season. 
 
 I was not long in the kitchen before I 
 had this poor woman's character well under- 
 stood. When I entered she was quarrelling 
 with her husband, and he had not the gift 
 of speech to contend with her. However, 
 she was not using bad language, neither was 
 there any sign that they would come to blows. 
 She did nothing but snap and whine, much 
 to the amusement of the other lodgers in 
 the kitchen. After I had been there for over 
 half an hour, she was still at it — in fact, she 
 could not keep her tongue silent for one 
 moment. But she appeared quite harmless, 
 and I could not imagine the poor woman 
 doing any other than talk. Seeing her 
 simple character, I was not at all surprised 
 when, later in the evening, she came and sat 
 at my side, and began to chatter as though 
 she had known me for years. The old man
 
 MY DISGRACE 165 
 
 was then sitting at the far end of the kitchen, 
 and looking in our direction. I could not 
 help noticing that he did not look very well 
 pleased, and that he kept working his lips as 
 though he were talking to himself. But 1 
 took it that he was cursing his wife for her 
 past behaviour and was indifferent to her 
 present position at my side. I never thought 
 for one moment that he could be jealous, for 
 his wife was so untidy, and unattractive in 
 every way, that very few men would en- 
 courage her from her husband. I certainly 
 did not take the least fancy to her, although 
 I did not discourage her talk. In fact, I 
 was under the impression that she was half- 
 witted, and pitied her. When it was ten 
 o'clock the old man went to bed, but she 
 still sat talking at my side. However, I 
 was getting tired now, so I left her and went 
 to my own bed. 
 
 When I came downstairs the next morning 
 and entered the kitchen, I saw several lodgers 
 look my way and then begin to whisper. I 
 saw at once that there was something the 
 matter, and that I was the cause of it, but 
 had no idea of what it was. But while I
 
 i66 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 was at my breakfast, a man and woman 
 came and sat near me, and the woman at 
 once began to address me. " We could not 
 get any sleep last night," she said, " and it 
 was all through you." " What do you 
 mean ? " I asked, very much surprised to 
 hear these words. " Why," said the woman, 
 " Emma has been telling her old man that 
 she has taken a fancy to you, and that she 
 is going away with you to-day. They have 
 been quarrelling all night, and the people 
 with beds near them could not get a wink 
 of sleep. The old man is not going to work 
 to-day, so as to keep his eye on her. It was 
 very annoying to be kept awake all right 
 by such a pair of fools, but we couldn't help 
 laughing." After this I heard others complain 
 of the same thing, that Emma and her 
 husband had kept them awake. 
 
 In a few moments after this Emma walked 
 into the kitchen, followed by her husband. 
 They were quiet enough now, for no doubt 
 they were conscious of having made them- 
 selves a nuisance during the night. I had 
 my back turned to the both of them, and 
 heard the old man's steps coming my way,
 
 MY DISGRACE 167 
 
 whereas Emma had come to a halt in front 
 of the fire. " Here he is ! " cried the old man. 
 It occurred to my mind that I was the " he " 
 that was spoken of, so I turned my head 
 around to see if he was looking or pointing 
 my way. But when I gave him a glance, I 
 could see that his eyes were on Emma, and 
 he was making no motion at all, so that I 
 could not very well say anything. " When 
 are you going to get the breakfast ? " asked 
 the old man. Up to this time Emma had 
 not opened her mouth, but now she began 
 to whine in her usual way : " Won't you 
 give me a little peace ? What a hurry you 
 are in ! Don't you think of anything but 
 your guts ? " Her tongue began going now 
 to such a purpose that her voice was soon 
 lost in the noise made by the lodgers, some 
 of whom were annoyed, while others were 
 amused. When all became quiet again, 
 Emma was heard to say distinctly, " I will, 
 you see if I don't." This, of course, was a 
 threat, but I did not know what it meant. 
 However, I soon understood the meaning — 
 she was repeating the threat she had been 
 making all night, which was to run away with
 
 i68 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 me. "I'll see that you don't," cried the old 
 man, his voice shaking with passion. The 
 next moment several voices uttered a serious 
 cry of fear, and I turned around, thinking 
 the old man was about to do something 
 desperate. When I did I then saw that he 
 held a knife in his hand, and two lodgers 
 were strugghng to take it from him. They 
 soon succeeded, for the old man was weak 
 and shaky. " You must have more sense 
 than that," said one of the lodgers, " trying 
 to stab that man in the back." As he said 
 this he nodded my way, so that I knew then 
 what had happened, and took care to keep 
 my eye on the old man in future. 
 
 Some time after this I went to another 
 house of the same kind and got into trouble 
 again. There was a young woman there with 
 a bastard baby, who began to show more 
 interest in me than I cared for. She seemed 
 a clean, quiet, inoffensive woman who, getting 
 much pity through being a mother, made a 
 fair living by selling embroidery and other 
 things. It must not be thought that these 
 women have any great desire for a man as a 
 man. What they want a man for is the
 
 MY DISGRACE 169 
 
 greater convenience of getting lodgings, since 
 women have to pay for rooms to them- 
 selves, and that is expensive ; so that they 
 find it more convenient to travel with a man. 
 There are other reasons too, which I will not 
 go into. Very well, then. This poor woman 
 had just been deserted, and was afraid to 
 start her travels again without having the 
 company of a man. Unfortunately she chose 
 me, and showed her favour by offering to 
 do several little kindnesses. But I was 
 determined not to make use of this poor 
 woman for a month or less and then desert 
 her, for, of course, I could never make a life 
 companion of a woman like that, especially as 
 I did not expect to be a beggar much longer. 
 So, rather than do this, I left the house and 
 did not return. There happened to be another 
 man in the house that had his eye on her, 
 but she gave him no encouragement. This 
 man called himself a translator, but was then 
 a beggar. I gathered from his conversation 
 that he was a cobbler by trade and translated 
 old shoes into new. It was the first time that 
 I had ever heard a cobbler call himself a 
 translator. Perhaps when she had made sure
 
 I70 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 that I was really gone, she took more notice 
 of the other man's attentions. But, as I have 
 said, she could make a fair living herself, and 
 had no need to hurry into an alliance with 
 the first man that admired her. I never had 
 so much pity for a woman in all my life, for 
 she seemed as though she would have made 
 a good wife for some honest man, and 
 deserved a nice home of her own.
 
 XIII 
 
 Yank 
 
 THERE was one man in this lodging- 
 house at Guildford that interested me 
 very much — it was the man called Yank. He 
 had very little to say, and not only never once 
 mentioned America, but did not talk like an 
 American. This made me wonder how long 
 he had lived in that country, and what he 
 knew of it. But he seemed so solemn and 
 quiet that I did not like to begin asking 
 questions until he first said something to me. 
 While I was in this undecided state some- 
 thing suddenly happened which threatened 
 to end with blood, and it was then that I 
 saw Yank make a movement that gave me 
 the idea that he was either an American 
 or had lived in that country long enough to 
 know its customs. There was a drunken 
 grinder in the kitchen, who would not sit 
 
 down, but kept walking up and down, in 
 
 171
 
 172 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 everyone's way. He seemed to do this so 
 that lodgers should swear at him, which 
 would give him a chance to swear in return — 
 for all grinders take a great delight in swear- 
 ing. At last this drunken grinder happened 
 to stumble against Yank, who was then in 
 the act of carrying his teapot from the fire 
 to a table. To the surprise of everyone, and 
 the grinder especially, Yank recovered his 
 balance and went on, without saying a word. 
 However, after he had placed his teapot on 
 the table, he put his hand into his pocket, 
 took out a razor, opened it, and then re- 
 turned and stood before the grinder. " Now," 
 said he, speaking without the least passion, 
 " now, you sit down quietly, or I will cut 
 you into pieces." Of course, the grinder sat 
 down at once, and there was no more trouble 
 with him for the rest of the evening. It was 
 this simple movement on Yank's part that 
 gave me the idea that he knew how to use 
 the razor as a weapon ; a thing well known 
 to American niggers, whose weapon it is — 
 but known to very few white people outside 
 of that country. When I saw Yank standing 
 there, holding the razor as it should be held
 
 YANK 173 
 
 as a weapon, I was delighted ; for I have 
 met hundreds of men, even in America, who 
 did not know that. 
 
 There is a certain way of holding the razor 
 as a weapon far different from when used 
 for the peaceful purpose of shaving. If 
 my own razor is ready to hand, which I 
 may say was never once used as a weapon, 
 I am always happy to give a practical illus- 
 tration before any men, women or children 
 that may be present. But as a rule people, 
 although interested, seldom wish for a practi- 
 cal illustration. 
 
 The razor is the American negro's weapon, 
 and he makes an art of its use as white men 
 make an art of boxing or fencing. The 
 number of negroes I have seen with half ears, 
 noses divided like pigs' trotters, and more 
 mouths than one — in neck or cheek — can 
 prove what weapon has been used. As the 
 innocent-looking Chinaman often carries more 
 arms than two in his big loose sleeves — some- 
 times a revolver, a dagger, or an extra ace 
 or two — even so the negress in the slums of 
 an American city will carry other things 
 besides legs in her stockings. I have often
 
 174 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 seen a negress that was about to pass some 
 corner loafers who might interfere with her, 
 stoop in a doorway and take a razor out of 
 her stocking. Little would they think that 
 this negress, sauntering leisurely past them, 
 with her two hands in her sleeves, had a razor 
 held ready to cut off the ear or nose of any 
 man that provoked her. 
 
 Knowing these things, the reader can 
 imagine my delight when I saw that Yank 
 knew how to use the razor as a weapon. 
 The way he held it made it impossible to in- 
 flict injury on his own hand, however much 
 the grinder might struggle for his life. How- 
 ever, there was no fear of the grinder doing 
 anything of the kind, for he had sat down, lit 
 his pipe and was soon fast asleep. This was 
 soon made known to us all, for we heard the 
 pipe — which was made of clay — fall from his 
 mouth and break on the floor. 
 
 However, it soon happened that Yank 
 came and sat at my side, and the words that 
 had been on my tongue for a long time had 
 to come out at last. " You know the proper 
 way to hold the razor as a weapon," I said. 
 " It is the only way, if a man does not want
 
 YANK 175 
 
 to cut his own body," he answered. " I 
 know that," said I ; ** but though the razor 
 has no equal for drawing blood, what a poor 
 miserable weapon it is after all. Where is 
 its standing as a death-dealer ? Where is the 
 pleasure of so much slashing the surface of 
 a man's body, when one stab with a knife 
 or blow with a club can end the battle at 
 once ? I have seen a man cut with a razor in 
 thirty different places, who still recovered. 
 If such a man had been in a common fight 
 with the knuckles, it is hardly likely that he 
 would have recovered his health with so much 
 ease." " What you say is quite true," an- 
 swered Yank. " I have used all kinds of 
 weapons, and would never think of using the 
 razor if any other was at hand. I like the 
 revolver best, which I was well used to when 
 I was in America. Do you know the best 
 place to carry a revolver ? " 
 
 Now the usual place to carry a revolver 
 is either in a hip pocket and concealed, or 
 stuck in the front of a strong leather belt 
 and exposed to every eye. The man of the 
 latter style is less liable to insult than the 
 former, and he certainly has the advantage
 
 176 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 of quick drawing. But it was when I met 
 Frisco Slim, a quiet, studious, gentlemanly- 
 looking fellow who, in his calHng as a gambler, 
 had found it necessary to fill thirty or forty 
 graves — it was when I met this interesting 
 man that I received the most valuable in- 
 formation as to where a revolver should be 
 carried. I was very poor at the time, and 
 told Slim boldly, after receiving from him a 
 dollar bill, that if he had an elder brother to 
 the coat he was then wearing, I would not 
 have the least objection to carrying such 
 an one away with me on my back. " Come 
 indoors," said he at once, " and I'll see what 
 can be done." Hearing this I entered and, 
 just inside the door. Slim took down a coat 
 that was hanging on a peg in the passage. 
 " There," said he, " this coat is almost new, 
 with only a small hole in the right-hand 
 pocket. " That's nothing at all," I an- 
 swered at once ; " did you burn the coat 
 pocket with a hot pipe after smoking ? " 
 ** Oh, no," said Slim ; " this hole was caused 
 by shooting Denver Red. ' ' Seeing my puzzled 
 look. Slim went on to explain how Denver 
 Red had been looking for him for several
 
 YANK 177 
 
 days, with two revolvers stuck in his belt. 
 " But," said Slim, " I walked the street with 
 a revolver in this pocket, and my right hand 
 always inside, with my finger on the trigger. 
 Therefore, when I met Red and saw him 
 make a motion to draw, I at once shot him 
 through this pocket, for I really had no time 
 to draw." 
 
 I was quite surprised to hear this — no 
 fumbling at the belt ; no struggling at a hip 
 pocket, and no exposure of weapons ; nothing 
 at all to show what his intentions were. 
 This man SHm could be standing at a bar 
 laughing and joking and raising his glass 
 with his left hand, while his right hand would 
 be holding a revolver that would be levelled 
 at another's heart, and no one would know 
 anything about it. 
 
 When I was leaving him, thinking how 
 Denver Red had been shot through that coat 
 pocket, I said, " I am greatly obliged to you 
 for so much kindness, and if I happen to be 
 in the same poverty when I come this way 
 again, I trust you will not be short of a coat 
 or two • for, really, the holes are nothing, 
 of no account whatever." " I am ever ready 
 
 N
 
 178 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 to do that kindness," answered the kind- 
 hearted fellow, with deep feeling ; " for I 
 always have an order with the tailor for a 
 new coat." 
 
 I thought of this incident when Yank asked 
 me if I knew the best place to carry a re- 
 volver. So I told him at once, and gave 
 Frisco Slim's reasons, much to Yank's satis- 
 faction. 
 
 At this time I felt very unsettled in my 
 mind, not knowing whether to go North, 
 South, East, or West. It is not often that 
 tramps get in this unsettled state, for they 
 generally have some large town or city in 
 view. Sometimes a tramp in the South of 
 England will take a notion to go to Glasgow, 
 and he keeps that port in mind until he 
 gets there. He knows very well that he is 
 not going there to look for work, or to be 
 helped by friends or relatives, and yet he 
 makes every effort to get there, sometimes 
 making very long marches indeed. And 
 nothing annoys him more than a heavy fall 
 of snow, or steady rain, to make him stay 
 more than one night in the same town. 
 When he reaches Glasgow, he may not even
 
 YANK 179 
 
 beg that to\Mi, but make up his mind ahnost 
 immediately to \isit Swansea. In fact, all 
 he has done in Glasgow was to stand at a 
 public fountain and drink a cup of cold 
 water. 
 
 Although I was not likely to take a mad 
 notion of this kind, yet, for all that, I was 
 tr}ing to think of some large to\Mi that I 
 could reach by easy stages. Therefore, when 
 Yank said that he thought of going to 
 Oxford, I at once made up my mind that 
 Oxford should be my destination also. But 
 tramps as a rule are very independent of 
 each other, and seldom invite each other's 
 company. This being the case, I felt too in- 
 dependent to ask Yank if I should accom- 
 pany him, and, when he heard that I was 
 going in that direction, he was too shy to 
 sa\' that he would hke my company. But in 
 cases of this kind tramps usually fall into 
 each other's company in an easy, natural 
 manner. For instance, when the next morn- 
 ing Yank had finished breakfast and saw 
 me sitting smoking — for I had alread}- finished 
 mine — he said, " Are you going my way ? " 
 " Yes," I answered, and we left the house
 
 i8o THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 together. In less than twenty minutes we 
 were on the country road, chatting as though 
 we had known each other for a considerable 
 time. 
 
 I found that although Yank was a ver^^ 
 quiet man when a number of others were 
 around, he was really sociable with one man 
 for a companion. He was a clean-shaven, 
 tall, bony man, not yet in the prime of life, 
 and very active. But what alarmed me 
 more than once was his bold curiosity. For 
 he often left my side to look over a wall or 
 inside a gate, and once he went boldly to a 
 house and looked into the porch. I could 
 not account for this, for I thought he had 
 gone there with the intention of begging the 
 house. The thought occurred to me, much 
 to my alarm, that Yank was more of a thief 
 than a beggar. However, an incident soon 
 occurred that set my mind at ease on that 
 score. We were passing a large house that 
 had no other ground in front than the public 
 road. As we were passing, we could hear a 
 number of voices inside, chatting and laugh- 
 ing, for it seemed they had a party there, 
 either for a wedding or a birthday. Of course
 
 YANK i8i 
 
 this was none of our business, but to my 
 surprise I saw Yank stand and deliberately 
 look through the window, with his nose 
 flattened against the glass. " Come on," I 
 said, in great alarm ; " come on, for what 
 will people think ! " But Yank did not seem 
 to care much what people would think, for 
 he joined me very leisurely indeed. When 
 he reached my side, and we had gone some 
 distance, I looked back and was not sur- 
 prised to see three gentlemen at the door, 
 probably deliberating whether they would 
 have us arrested or not. 
 
 Before we reached Oxford we were joined 
 by another beggar whom we at once called 
 ** Ginger," because he had red hair.
 
 XIV 
 
 House-Calling 
 
 WHEN we reached Oxford, Ginger left 
 us, for he had not 3^et begged the 
 price of his bed. But before he left he men- 
 tioned a certain lodging-house, kept by an 
 Italian, where he always put up. " That's 
 my house too," said Yank, " if it is not full." 
 As I have said, Ginger was an industrious 
 beggar, who wasted no time. So that I was 
 not at all surprised to see him, after hearing 
 Yank say this, knock at the first door he 
 came to. The consequence was that we had 
 not been seated in the lodging-house kitchen 
 more than twenty minutes, when in walked 
 our friend Ginger, and took a seat near us. 
 
 These common lodging-houses kept by 
 Italians are far more kind and generous in 
 their treatment of beggars than those that 
 are in the hands of our own people. The 
 
 reason is that most of these Italians were 
 
 182
 
 HOUSE-CALLING 183 
 
 very poor when they first came to England, 
 and Uved as travelHng organ-grinders, until 
 they saved enough to encourage them to 
 borrow from their friends and open a common 
 lodging-house. Scores of beggars remember 
 the landlord of the Swindon lodging-house, 
 who is comparatively rich now, when he 
 was little better off than themselves, travelling 
 through the country with an organ, and living 
 at different common lodging-houses. In fact, 
 at this house in Oxford there were, at the time 
 I mention, several Itahan organ-grinders. 
 For that reason beggars are treated much 
 better by Italians than by their own country- 
 men. These Italian lodging-house keepers 
 do not forget their own past ; and it is 
 nothing unusual to see an Italian landlady 
 sitting in the lodgers' kitchen and talking 
 to them cheerfully, as though she were still 
 a travelling organ-grinder and had to mix 
 with them. 
 
 The next morning being Saturday, we left 
 the house together, Yank, Ginger and myself, 
 with the intention of begging the town. When 
 we reached the main street we parted, each 
 one going on his own business, with the
 
 184 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 understanding that we would meet later on 
 in the lodging-house, for we intended to re- 
 main in Oxford over Sunday. 
 
 A man who is house-calling gets many a 
 strange experience, pathetic, humorous, or 
 cruel ; for people are not always in the same 
 condition or mood. So, on this particular 
 morning, I was to be the unwilling witness of 
 domestic strife. I had knocked at a door, 
 which was almost immediately answered by 
 a man, who, hearing my wants, sternly said 
 no, and shut the door. However, before I 
 could reach the next house, the door was 
 again opened and a woman's voice cried, 
 " Come back, and come in." Hearing this 
 I went back, thinking that the man had re- 
 pented, owing to his wife's kinder feeling, 
 and never dreamt that it could be anything 
 else. But when I got inside the house and 
 saw that the man's face was very white, and 
 that the woman's face was very red, I began 
 to think that something was wrong. And 
 when I took a seat and waited to hear the 
 usual questions of curiosity, and no such ques- 
 tions came, I began to feel uncomfortable. 
 But it was not long before I understood how
 
 HOUSE-CALLING 185 
 
 matters were. The woman began kicking 
 and banging things about, and when she 
 picked up the frying-pan, instead of putting 
 it on the fire, she first held it high in the air, 
 over the man's head. This action quite up- 
 set me, for I was very much afraid that they 
 would come to blows. And I remembered 
 my grandfather's account of interfering be- 
 tween man and wife ; how, when he was 
 holding the man down, the treacherous woman 
 rushed forward and split my grandfather's head 
 open with a small saucepan. I remembered 
 well my grandfather's account of that, and I 
 felt very nervous under the circumstances. 
 My grandfather had said that he believed he 
 lost more blood on that occasion than would 
 have been required to make twenty black- 
 puddings. But I am very pleased to say that 
 this man at once saved me from all worry, 
 for he opened the door and went out. 
 
 A beggar often meets with strange ex- 
 periences of this kind. I have — not often, 
 I am glad to say — had the door opened by a 
 woman that was too drunk to understand 
 a word I said, and who could not be made to 
 understand.
 
 i86 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 Once or twice I have been asked in at a 
 house where a dead body lay, and have wished 
 those sad people had shown their charity 
 outside the house, or refused me altogether. 
 When I was asked into one small house, I 
 was astonished on entering to see a fine 
 large oil-painting of a youth, which must 
 have cost more than all the furniture the 
 house contained, for it was only a working- 
 man's house. The boy had a beautiful face ; 
 a clear, open brow, fine large eyes and 
 smiling lips. Almost immediately the mother, 
 a very poor woman, began to talk of him. 
 He was her eldest son, who had been killed, 
 and horribly mangled first. This painting 
 was made from a photograph which he had 
 had taken just before his death, and the 
 mother had paid several pounds for it. What 
 a sad effect this picture must have had on 
 the family ! I could not imagine any laughter 
 going on in that room, and the man and his 
 wife would never have unkind words there. 
 It seemed to be impossible to do any other 
 than whisper in the presence of such a 
 startling likeness, which was life-size, know- 
 ing that the boy was in a cold grave. As
 
 HOUSE-CALLING 187 
 
 soon as I entered the room the mother began 
 to talk of him, and I could not help feeling 
 a real interest, for the boy's face seemed to 
 have genius. As I have said, the picture was 
 so large, and the room was so small, that I 
 could not help thinking how unwise it was 
 to have it in that living room, under their 
 eyes from morning till night. 
 
 On another occasion I had the door opened 
 by a man with his throat cut. The razor 
 was in his hand, when he appeared in the 
 doorway, and it was covered with blood. 
 Needless to say, I left at once, without telling 
 him my errand, and went to look for a police- 
 man. However, when I had reached the front 
 of the house, I thought better of it ; for if 
 the man was dead when I entered with a 
 police officer, no doubt the latter would have 
 arrested me for his murder. I knew very well 
 that I could not give a good account of my 
 past life, and my present life would have not 
 been very favourable to the law. For that 
 reason, I did no more than to tell a little girl 
 who happened to be playing in front of the 
 house, to run and tell her mother that a man 
 had cut his throat. She seemed quite old
 
 i88 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 enough to understand, and after I had shown 
 her the house, ran to her own as fast as she 
 could, which happened to be just across the 
 road. I don't know whether the man died 
 or Uved. All I know is that I left that town at 
 once, thinking the police would want to ques- 
 tion me. And seeing that I could not reach 
 another lodging-house that night, and Lad 
 to sleep out, and it rained hard for twelve 
 hours — having this experience, I hoped with 
 all my heart that he was dead and his soul in 
 hell. 
 
 To return to my experience in Oxford. I 
 was very glad to see the man go out, for the 
 lady was very charming after he had gone. 
 She not only gave me a good meal, but, when 
 I was leaving, put twopence in my hand. 
 And, after leaving her house, I had other 
 small successes, in the usual quiet way, with- 
 out being made to feel uncomfortable. Being 
 Saturday, I wanted to get enough to pay my 
 way over Sunday, and for that reason con- 
 tinued to call at houses until five o'clock, 
 when I returned to the lodging-house, being 
 well satisfied with my day's work. Neither 
 Yank nor Ginger had returned when I got
 
 HOUSE-CALLING 189 
 
 there, but in less than half an hour the latter 
 walked into the kitchen. 
 
 Of course, he also had had one experience 
 worth mentioning, as every beggar must have 
 at the end of a long day's steady Kouse-calling. 
 He was just on the point of going to one 
 house, when he heard a loud scream, and the 
 next instant the door was opened with a 
 loud bang, and then a woman rushed into 
 the backyard. " What's the matter, Missis ? " 
 asked Ginger. " A mouse ! " answered the 
 woman, making haste to get behind Ginger's 
 back. On hearing this. Ginger, without the 
 least fear, entered the house and began a 
 search. It seems that the mouse had no hole 
 to escape in that room, for after Ginger had 
 poked with a stick under a number of things, 
 it was dislodged and ran across the floor. 
 Ginger had not taken off his hat, which was 
 a hard one, but did now, and threw it at the 
 mouse with good effect. Holding it by the 
 tail he came in triumph, and, before the 
 woman's eyes, threw the terrible beast into 
 an ash-bin. All this turned out well for 
 Ginger ; for after he had thoroughly ex- 
 plained his position, the woman gave him
 
 igo THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 fourpence, which was the full price of his 
 bed. Ginger was very fortunate in getting 
 fourpence with so little trouble. 
 
 After we had sat talking for a long time, 
 I began to wonder what had become of Yank, 
 and asked Ginger his opinion. " Arrested," 
 said Ginger, decisively. " He is too wide 
 awake for that," I answered. But it now 
 suddenly occurred to me that Yank had 
 mentioned more than once his experience in 
 different jails. 
 
 When nine o'clock came, and still no sign 
 of Yank, Ginger said, " He's arrested, you 
 can be sure of that. For," he continued, 
 " begging in the street is not so safe as going 
 to houses. Begging on the fly is all right on 
 country roads and going through small places, 
 but when you come to do it in a town the size 
 of Oxford, you run a great risk." 
 
 Ginger's opinion was that Yank had had 
 good luck, and then went drinking. After 
 getting into a muddled state he had lost all 
 thought of the police, and became too bold ; 
 persisted too much and drew attention to 
 his actions. Being in that muddled state 
 he would probably delay a gentleman in the
 
 HOUSE-CALLING 191 
 
 middle of a street, when the latter would 
 be hurrying across to get out of the way 
 of the traffic. And if he did that, the police 
 would not be blind to him for long. " If 
 Yank escaped the police he could, in a town 
 like this, get a couple of shillings in an hour, 
 and it would take me more than half a day 
 to get that amount at houses," said Ginger. 
 " But for all that, my way and yours is the 
 safest. No begging on the fly for me." 
 
 Ginger must have been right, for I remained 
 in Oxford for several days, but saw no sign of 
 Yank. I never met him again.
 
 XV 
 
 Spring Cleaning 
 
 I DID not remain in Oxford as long as 
 I intended, but left on the following 
 Wednesday, making my way towards Abing- 
 don. As I was walking along, having left 
 Oxford several miles behind, I was over- 
 taken by a man with a dog. Seeing that the 
 man was not a beggar, I intended to let him 
 pass without a greeting, but to my surprise 
 he walked at my side and entered into con- 
 versation. " Are you on the road ? " he 
 asked. " Yes," I answered at once, thinking 
 that his sympathy would be worth some- 
 thing. " Hunger is a terrible thing," he said, 
 smiling faintly. " It's an awful feeling," I 
 answered, seriously. There was a long pause 
 after this, and then he said, " I have not 
 broken my fast since yesterday morning." 
 " Haven't you ? " I asked, throwing the 
 
 hypocrite aside and turning rather red, to 
 
 192
 
 SPRING CLEANING 193 
 
 think that I had expected help from a man 
 worse off than myself. For I could now see 
 what kind of man he was — he had lost his 
 job, his money also, and was now tramping 
 home. Men of this kind are often met on 
 the road, and it is no difficult matter to 
 know them. Of course I could not keep food 
 in my pocket under these circumstances, so 
 I gave him what I had, keeping back one 
 slice of bread so as to have the pleasure of 
 feeding the dog with my own hands. 
 
 As we walked on the man told me what 
 had occurred, which was nothing unusual. 
 He had lost his job through slackness of 
 trade, but instead of taking a train straight 
 home to Reading, thought he would first have 
 a day's enjoyment where he was. A day's 
 enjoyment was — as with thousands of others 
 — a day's drinking. The end of it was that 
 he got into bad hands and was robbed of all 
 his savings, which he had in his pockets. 
 
 After he had told me this he thanked me 
 for my kindness, and then said that he 
 would push on with all speed, as he did not 
 intend to rest once until he had reached 
 Reading. So I gave him a penny to buy
 
 194 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 bread, knowing that that small amount would 
 keep him from suffering hunger on his 
 journey, even if he did not get help from some- 
 one else. As he was leaving, the poor dog 
 kept on turning its head to see if I followed. 
 At last, when the distance between his 
 master and me was great, he stood motion- 
 less in the road, as though he did not know 
 which to remain with. He seemed to know 
 that I was the one that had power to feed 
 him. However, after standing awhile in this 
 position, he turned and followed his master, 
 but still kept looking back. I was very glad 
 to lose sight of him, for the dog's look touched 
 me. In fact, the worse moments I have ever 
 had on the road have been owing to lost dogs. 
 It always cut my heart to pieces to have to 
 drive away a homeless dog, which I have 
 often had to do. 
 
 I had passed several people on the road, 
 but I now met one that I was certain was 
 a true beggar. So I spoke to him, asking if 
 there were any villages between me and 
 Abingdon. " There is one not far from here," 
 he answered, " which you will see lying back 
 off the road." "Is it any good ? " I asked.
 
 SPRING CLEANING 195 
 
 " Well," said the man, " it always was good, 
 but to-day the people are all gone mad." I 
 understood by these words that the village 
 had been visited by a circus or wild beast 
 show, and that the people were mad with 
 excitement. In fact, I was so impressed with 
 this idea that I said at once, " Who does 
 the show belong to ? " " Who said anything 
 about a show ? " answered the stranger, looking 
 at me with some impatience. " There is no 
 show at all, but the women are all spring 
 cleaning, and they won't listen to reason ! " 
 I was very sorry to hear this, for I knew what 
 women were when they took a mad notion of 
 that kind. 
 
 I could never understand this fad of 
 spring cleaning, which seems to drive women 
 mad once a year. Why should rubbish be 
 allowed to gather so as to be destroyed at 
 this particular time ? Why should things 
 that are cleaned often receive extra cleaning 
 in the spring ? For my life I cannot see the 
 necessity of cleaning windows so often — with 
 the exception of shop-windows. This fad 
 seems to be universal, for I have often seen 
 spring cleaning going on in America. When
 
 196 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 I have begged a house, I have often had a 
 woman say, *' I can only give you a cold 
 lunch, because I am spring cleaning, and 
 have no time to cook." However, a beggar 
 has one advantage — that he gets more money 
 at this time, because women are too busy to 
 cut and put together a sandwich or buttered 
 bread. And money is always welcome, for 
 he will surely come at last to a house where 
 spring cleaning is either done or not started, 
 which will be good for food. 
 
 Women usually follow the leader in a case 
 of this kind. No sooner does one start than 
 neighbours follow, until the whole village is 
 in commotion. When a woman is spring 
 cleaning, a man ought to watch every move- 
 ment she makes ; not so much for what she 
 does with her own hands, but also because 
 of the example she sets her children to 
 break and burn. The children are always 
 delighted at being told to break or burn 
 things, and they are apt to destroy anything 
 that comes into their hands. If he cannot 
 do this, he ought to get together the things 
 that he values most and put them under lock 
 and key until his wife has done.
 
 SPRING CLEANING 197 
 
 I remember the case of a friend of mine 
 who, to his sorrow, went away for several 
 days to escape spring cleaning. But when 
 he returned, he found that his wife and 
 daughters had destroyed his old books as 
 rubbish, and saved others that were of little 
 value. For instance, they burned an old 
 classic, because it was old and dirty, but 
 saved a new novel that he did not value in 
 the least. Very few women have any rever- 
 ence for a book. They bang a book about 
 without thinking that it contains a human 
 mind. I cannot imagine a woman having 
 any love for books after they are once 
 read. She gives them away, or lends them 
 without caring if they are returned — she 
 forgets who she has lent them to. But a 
 man does not lend his books with a good 
 heart, however much he may pretend to 
 do so. 
 
 Perhaps it was in spring cleaning that my 
 own first MS. was lost to the world for ever. 
 I was fourteen years of age at the time, and 
 had taken days and days in going through 
 a dictionary to find three and four syllable 
 words for a poem on death. That poem
 
 198 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 was hardly finished before it disappeared, 
 and I told my family that they would know 
 some day what they had done. For several 
 days I was like a little devil, shouting 
 fiercely to the maid-servant, " Have you 
 found it ? " At last my grandfather, who 
 was an old sea-captain, hearing this question 
 so often, roared in a voice that rattled the 
 cups and saucers, *' Avast there, you ag- 
 gravating young lubber ! Have you lost a 
 schooner of six hundred tons ? " Making 
 a dart for the door, I retorted, " Damn you 
 all ! " Saying this I gave the door a savage 
 kick and ran into the street. I shall never 
 forget the terrific roar that followed, and I 
 was certainly lucky to escape my grand- 
 father's hands. My grandfather was a very 
 passionate man, full of sudden storms, and 
 I knew that in a few moments he would be 
 his good-natured self again, and would have 
 clean forgotten my mutiny. 
 
 Thinking of these things I came to a place 
 in the road where I could see a village lying 
 a little way back. I will try my luck, said I 
 to myself — whether the women are spring 
 cleaning or not. With this determination I
 
 SPRING CLEANING 199 
 
 left the main road and took a side one, which 
 soon led me into the village. 
 
 It was very quiet at the first house I called, 
 and I began to think that spring cleaning must 
 have been confined to another part of the 
 village. However, I was not allowed to 
 think this long, for at the next house a 
 woman was on her knees, scrubbing the 
 threshold. Looking up and seeing me stand- 
 ing at the door, she cried firmly, " Not to- 
 day," without ceasing to scrub, and without 
 hearing a word of what I had to say. She 
 was making so much noise that she would 
 not have known I was there, if it had not been 
 for seeing my shadow on the floor. I could 
 see plainly that it was no use wasting my 
 time on her, so I went to the next house. 
 But when I got there, I saw to my confusion 
 a woman standing on some high steps in 
 the open doorway, who was showing a good 
 part of her legs. Seeing this I dared not 
 make my voice heard, for fear she in her 
 sudden fright would fall off the steps and 
 perhaps break one of her legs. Her head 
 was above the doorway, and near the 
 ceiling, so that I was enabled by moving
 
 200 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 very quietly, to go away without being seen 
 or heard. 
 
 At the next house I was successful, al- 
 though I could see the same state of things 
 going on. That woman looked so good- 
 natured that I believed she would have been 
 generous indeed if I had called on her at a 
 more convenient time. As it was she not 
 only gave me two thick slices of bread and 
 butter, but a penny also. She was a big 
 woman with a round body, and could have 
 carried a rose on her breast without pinning 
 it. She looked so good-natured that, if she 
 had not been spring cleaning, I would have 
 thought nothing of asking her to toast the 
 bread before she buttered it. 
 
 After leaving that house, I was lucky 
 enough to meet with several small successes. 
 However, it was not long before I met 
 another spring-cleaning woman, and she an- 
 noyed me much more than the others had. 
 When I went to her house, I could not get 
 an answer for a long time, but still persisted 
 in knocking, because I heard a noise of 
 someone upstairs. At last I got quite angry 
 and knocked the door so hard, that I felt
 
 SPRING CLEANING 201 
 
 repentance the instant after. She must have 
 heard, for the noise upstairs ceased all at 
 once, and I stood, expecting to hear her 
 coming down the stairs to answer the door. 
 But to my surprise she did nothing of the 
 kind. For I heard, to my disgust, the bed- 
 room window go up with a loud bang, and 
 the next moment a head, that seemed to be 
 all hair and no face, appeared outside. Soon 
 after that a woman's voice shrieked, ** What 
 do you want ? " as though she were Jezebel 
 in fear of her hfe. I need hardly say that I 
 was unsuccessful at that house. For one 
 thing, a beggar must, to be successful, either 
 whine or speak in a very quiet and gentle 
 voice. If he has to shout his wants to the 
 top of a house, or from a back door to the 
 end of the garden, it is hardly likely that 
 his voice will cause much sympathy. The 
 most barefaced of beggars become nervous 
 and confused when they are told to shout, 
 after going to a house prepared to whine 
 and coax. Nothing takes a beggar more by 
 surprise than to have the door answered by 
 a man or woman who says, '' You must speak 
 out loud, because I am deaf." A beggar is
 
 202 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 SO loath to shout that, not knowing the extent 
 of the other's deafness, he is hkely to still 
 speak too low, and to be told several times 
 to raise his voice, which adds to his con- 
 fusion. He knows that his own voice will 
 frighten himself if he has to use loud tones 
 instead of quiet, soft ones ; and he is afraid 
 that he will either frighten or offend his 
 hearers. Of course the exertion, too, annoys 
 him. 
 
 In spite of spring cleaning I earned enough 
 in that village to keep me over the night, 
 so I passed on towards Abingdon, without 
 troubling to call at other houses on my way. 
 Sometimes a beggar has to call at two and even 
 three villages before he has enough for his 
 wants, so that I had nothing to complain of. 
 No doubt the other beggar, whom I had met, 
 had been frightened to see so much cleaning 
 going on, and had not given the village a 
 fair trial. This must have been the case, 
 for I was not told at any house that another 
 beggar had been there before me, and people 
 are not backward in telling this. In fact, 
 they often say so when it is not the truth, 
 so as to get rid of us. Nine beggars out of
 
 SPRING CLEANING 203 
 
 ten must become silent and go away when 
 they are told another beggar has just been 
 there before them. 
 
 In a couple of hours I reached Abingdon. 
 I had been told in Oxford that the lodging- 
 house would be at the other end of the town 
 from which I entered, so I made no inquiries 
 until I was there. And it happened that 
 when I did inquire, I was only a few yards 
 from it. 
 
 The landlady of this lodging-house was 
 an old gipsy, and no one could mistake the 
 fact. She was sitting in the lodgers' kitchen 
 when I entered, but did not appear to take 
 any practical part in the house management. 
 There were a couple of girls to do this, 
 probably granddaughters. That night a 
 man in a blue serge suit of clothes stood 
 smoking a pipe at the door of the lodgers' 
 kitchen. He looked like a farm labourer 
 dressed in his Sunday clothes, and did not 
 have the sharp look of a detective, as I first 
 thought he was. However, he was a police- 
 man and was courting one of the girls. He 
 had a pleasant time indeed, for it was his 
 duty to often enter the lodging-house and
 
 204 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 look around, and of course love made him 
 fond of doing his duty. None of the beggars 
 tried to hide their faces from him, for they 
 knew very well that he would be loath to do 
 the lodging-house harm by arresting its 
 lodgers. He was likely to be discharged 
 from the force for not arresting a beggar, 
 but he was also likely to lose his girl if he 
 did arrest one.
 
 XVI 
 
 Jack the Giant-Killer 
 
 TWO or three days after this I reached 
 Maidenhead, where I intended to stay 
 overnight. There happened to be a good 
 lodging-house in that town, which I had 
 been told of long before I got there. I 
 reached Maidenhead about four o'clock in 
 the afternoon and went at once to the 
 lodging-house and paid for a bed. 
 
 When I entered the kitchen I was sur- 
 prised that although there were between 
 twenty and thirty beggars present, not one 
 curious eye turned towards me. However, 
 I soon saw the reason, for in the middle of 
 the room I saw a very small man standing 
 with his shirt-sleeves tucked up and glaring 
 around at the various lodgers. He was a 
 little bit of a fellow, about thirty years of 
 age ; not only short, but as slight as any boy 
 
 that sings treble in a church choir. Most of 
 
 205
 
 2o6 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 the lodgers were laughing when I entered, 
 and others were puffing silently at their pipes, 
 leaning on the tables and regarding the little 
 fellow with lazy interest. Before I could 
 be seated this little man cried in a clear, high 
 voice, " I could wipe the floor with any 
 man in this house." Saying this he put 
 himself in a fighting attitude and waited. 
 Much laughter greeted these words, but of 
 course no one took the little fellow seriously. 
 At last, not succeeding in getting an oppo- 
 nent, he put on his waistcoat and coat and 
 went out. As he did so it was clear to every- 
 one that he was something the worse for 
 drink. 
 
 After the little fellow had left there was,' 
 of course, much laughter, and I gathered 
 from the talk of those around me that he 
 had been amusing them in this way for a 
 considerable time. However, the little man 
 had not been gone five minutes when into 
 the kitchen walked a very tall man, much 
 over six feet in height. He at once began 
 to look around, and then asked, addressing 
 no one in particular, " Where's Jack the 
 Giant-Killer ? " " Gone out for another
 
 JACK THE GIANT-KILLER 207 
 
 drink," answered a man sitting at my side. 
 The man had scarcely finished making this 
 answer before the little man entered. The 
 little man had no sooner set eyes on the 
 big fellow, than he clenched his fist, rushed at 
 him and struck him in the back with all his 
 power. Of course the big fellow was not 
 knocked down, he did not appear to be much 
 shaken. Before he could turn his head he 
 seemed to know who had struck him, for he 
 began to say at once, " Why don't you be 
 quiet ; what's the matter with you ? " "If 
 you are a man," cried the little fellow, 
 " take off your coat and let us see what you 
 can do." Saying this he stripped again, 
 throwing his coat and waistcoat on the 
 kitchen floor and tucking up his shirt-sleeves. 
 " I have told you to be quiet," said the big 
 fellow, speaking in a warning voice. " You 
 have told me what ! " screamed the other, 
 making a wild rush at his big companion. 
 " You little idiot ! " said the big man, catch- 
 ing the other in his arms ; " you have asked 
 for it, and you shall have it." The little 
 fellow struggled, but it was of no use, for 
 the big man carried him to a seat and spanked
 
 2o8 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 him across his knee, in the same way as a 
 mother would spank her child. Then he 
 picked him up, still struggling, and carried 
 him off to bed. Whether he used threats or 
 coaxed when he got the little fellow to bed 
 I cannot say, but it is certain that he came 
 back to the kitchen alone, and that his small 
 companion was seen no more that night. 
 The big fellow did not seem to have lost the 
 least patience, but said quietly, when he 
 returned to the kitchen, " He's a nice little 
 fellow when he's sober, but every time he 
 tastes beer he carries on in that way, and I 
 have to put him to bed. It does not happen 
 often, or we would not have been travellers 
 together for four years." It seemed a strange 
 friendship, between men so dissimilar ; one 
 a very big, good-natured fellow, and the other 
 so small, so excitable and quarrelsome. The 
 next morning they appeared to be the best 
 of friends, without any knowledge of the 
 night before. 
 
 At this common lodging-house in Maiden- 
 head I had my attention drawn to another 
 strange couple that interested me deeply. 
 It was a man and his wife, he of the un-
 
 JACK THE GIANT-KILLER 209 
 
 educated navvy type, and she apparently 
 a lady of culture. I had met hundreds of 
 women in different common lodging-houses, 
 but I had never met one that impressed me 
 so much as this woman. All the others 
 seemed to have come from the housemaid 
 class, but this woman appeared to be a well- 
 bred lady. She moved about the kitchen with 
 so much grace and with such sweet smiles, 
 that some of the lodgers she spoke to must 
 have felt as though they were being patron- 
 ized. The other women present appeared 
 to regard her as superior to themselves and 
 did not seem in the least jealous of her 
 better manners, which they could see were 
 not affected. Her husband was dressed as 
 a navvy, a big, simple fellow, with a good- 
 natured expression, and who was very quiet. 
 He only differed from the navvy in one thing 
 — when he spoke he did not use bad language, 
 which no doubt was through the influence of 
 his superior wife. At this time the man 
 was out of work, and she was supporting 
 him by selling needlework of her own make. 
 However, he did not seem to be the kind of 
 
 man that would live on a woman's work, but 
 p
 
 2IO THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 one that would work to keep her, whenever 
 he had a chance. This man and woman were 
 not proper roadsters — this could be seen by 
 how clean and tidy she kept herself. After he 
 had finished a job, they did not go drinking, 
 but travelled from town to town, when her 
 needlework would be a great help to his 
 savings until he got work again. In fact, 
 it was not unusual for them to take a train, 
 or, to use a beggar's words, " take a rattler." 
 I gathered these items from her own conver- 
 sation, for I happened to sit at the same 
 table with them, and she had a very easy, 
 familiar way about her. 
 
 As we sat there her husband drew her 
 attention to a paragraph in a daily news- 
 paper, which she had no sooner read than she 
 began to laugh. This drew the attention 
 of a number of lodgers, so she got on her feet 
 and read aloud. If I had had any doubts 
 before as to what kind of woman she was, 
 they vanished now, for her reading was so 
 easy and correct, and without the least 
 attempt to be dramatic. I believe that her 
 strange hearers would remember her way of 
 reading long after the subject was forgotten.
 
 JACK THE GIANT-KILLER 211 
 
 In the course of conversation she gave 
 me the address of a good common lodging- 
 house in Portsmouth, where I would be 
 treated with every civility if I mentioned 
 the name of Portsmouth Norah and her 
 husband Navvy Jack. I thanked her, and 
 said that if I ever went to that town I would 
 go to that lodging-house and mention their 
 names. 
 
 This couple, Portsmouth Norah and her 
 husband Navvy Jack, is the only couple 
 that I have ever met in a common lodging- 
 house that I believe could be assisted with- 
 out fear of them bringing disgrace on them- 
 selves and those that befriended them. They 
 seemed to have been forced to the road owing 
 to the husband's unsettled kind of work, for 
 very few navvies can remain long in one 
 place. However, what surprised me more 
 than anything was the thought of how 
 such a couple got together. Certainly he 
 was a superior navvy, in that he did not 
 swear or drink, and was gentle and quiet, 
 but the commonest women would expect 
 these traits in a man, much less a lady of 
 education, as she appeared to be.
 
 XVII 
 
 The Simple Life 
 
 THE next morning I left Maidenhead, 
 making my way towards High Wy- 
 combe. When I reached Cookham, I had 
 the unpleasant experience of having to pay 
 a halfpenny toll to cross a bridge, which 
 is heartrending to a beggar. In fact, no 
 beggar would think of paying a halfpenny 
 toll if there was the least chance of begging it. 
 But this bridge had so few passengers that 
 it would be folly to wait for them. However, 
 I did well between Cookham and High Wy- 
 combe, and reached the latter place before 
 night. The common lodging-houses in this 
 town were all public-houses, so I went to one 
 called the " Goat." 
 
 I had heard beggars speak well of Wy- 
 combe, because of the number of villages 
 close to it, lying back in the hills and within 
 an easy distance. The town itself was not 
 
 212
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 213 
 
 up to much, because chair-making, its chief 
 industry, was in a bad state. This being the 
 case I thought I would not trouble the town 
 itself, but go to the surrounding villages. 
 At this house there was a beggar called 
 ** Ferny," who had been there for a long time 
 and knew the surrounding country well. See- 
 ing that he was inclined to be friendly, I paid 
 for a glass of beer for him, which turned out 
 to be very wise on my part. For he began 
 to tell me the names of the various villages, 
 how to reach them, their distance, and what 
 they were worth. He also told me how, after 
 calling one village, I could without much 
 trouble call another on my way back, which 
 was well worth knowing. In fact, by follow- 
 ing Ferny's instructions I could do well for 
 several days. Ferny was not a downright 
 beggar, or he could not have begged the 
 same villages so many times. He had 
 several ways of calling them, sometimes with 
 ferns — hence his name — sometimes with arti- 
 ficial flowers, and sometimes as a rag-and- 
 bone man. In fact, the latter was his chief 
 support, for he always carried a bag in readi- 
 ness for old clothes, bones, bottles, jars and
 
 214 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 other things. But he was really a beggar, for 
 he was never prepared to pay for anything. 
 His first object was to find out if people had 
 those things, after which he made it his 
 business to get them for nothing. He was 
 always very ragged himself, so that the 
 poorest people could not very well regard 
 him as a merchant. 
 
 Having Ferny's instructions, I started the 
 next morning for a village two miles from the 
 town, which he assured me was one of the 
 best. There were very few houses on my 
 way, with the exception of those in the town, 
 so that I called at no houses until I was 
 almost in the village. Judging from its 
 scattered size, it would take me two or 
 three hours to go to every house, as I in- 
 tended to, and I knew that I would get 
 enough in that time to satisfy me for that 
 one day. 
 
 In about two hours and three-quarters I 
 had worked the village thoroughly and was 
 on my way back to Wycombe, having in my 
 pockets one and elevenpence-halfpenny and 
 several parcels of food. 
 
 Now it happened that on my way to the
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 215 
 
 village I had passed a nice little cottage that 
 I thought to have called at, but did not, 
 thinking to do so on my return. Therefore, 
 on my way back, I knocked at the door of 
 this cottage, which was soon answered by a 
 man. I was rather taken back by the 
 appearance of this man, for he was dressed 
 in good cloth, whereas I had expected to 
 see working people. However, I lost no time 
 in letting him know my wants, telling him 
 that I was trying to get the price of my bed. 
 " Here are a few pennies for you," he an- 
 swered at once, putting threepence in my 
 hand, to my surprise. 
 
 As I was leaving, thanking him very much, 
 he said, " Do you want something to eat as 
 well ? " Now I did not like to take ad- 
 vantage of this man's generosity, so I told 
 him at once that although I had not yet 
 had any dinner, I was not without it in my 
 pockets, and had only been waiting a chance 
 to eat it. " Keep that for your supper," he 
 said, " and come in." So I went into the 
 cottage. When I was seated at the table, he 
 placed a large quantity of plain food before 
 me, telling me to get rid of the whole lot if
 
 2i6 The true traveller 
 
 I could, because he was " damn well sick of 
 the simple life." 
 
 While I was eating, he was looking at me 
 with curiosity, as though he were wondering 
 whether I would understand him if he spoke 
 the thoughts on his mind. At last he said, 
 as though feeling his way, " Of course you 
 know nothing about books. I don't suppose 
 you ever heard of Thoreau ? " " Oh, yes," 
 I answered ; "I know his name, but have 
 not read his books. However, I not only 
 know the name of one of them, but I also 
 know the nature of it : it is called ' Walden,' 
 and deals with a simple life in the woods." 
 
 When the man heard this his face 
 brightened, for he began to think that he 
 had a listener that would understand what 
 he said. After a short pause he began, and 
 I will give his conclusions without my own 
 comments. What I said was not of much 
 account, for it only echoed his own thoughts, 
 so as to please him. 
 
 " This simple life has become unbearable," 
 he began. " After having had a dinner of 
 bread and cheese and nuts, I go out walking, 
 and am then mocked and teased to distrac-
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 217 
 
 tion by the smell of savoury stews in one- 
 roomed cottages. Can a man enjoy the 
 charms of Nature when his body is in this 
 state ? I lie upon a straw mattress which 
 breaks, and the loose straws stick into my 
 flesh : can a man enjoy sleep under these 
 conditions ? I sit upon a wooden chair that, 
 after half an hour's sitting, scrapes my very 
 bones. No wonder I must throw myself 
 flat on the grass every time I get a chance, 
 which makes the children run for their lives, 
 thinking I am a tramp. The simple life, 
 indeed ! It is madness, nothing else — except 
 it is to break pleasant habits so as to return 
 to them with a better appetite. I don't 
 believe that any man would live the simple 
 life from choice. We hear of men doing so 
 from necessity, and telling in cold unim- 
 passioned words how happy they live. As 
 for myself, I would rather have the belly- 
 ache after enjoying a rich meal than feel 
 painless but dull after a plain meal I did not 
 enjoy. Eat as much as you can, my friend, 
 and when you have done take the rest with 
 you, for I am sick of the look of it." " Have 
 you anything to drink ? " I asked. " Nothing
 
 2i8 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 but water," he answered bitterly ; " f or I 
 am trying to lead the simple hfe." " Water 
 is better than nothing," I said — so he got 
 me a large glass of water. 
 
 ** My simple life in the country," he con- 
 tinued, " forces me about every three weeks 
 to go to London with no other object than to 
 eat ; without the least desire to see pictures, 
 statues and fine buildings. And please re- 
 member that I am considered to be a man 
 of some culture. A good hot meal, ready- 
 cooked for me, is a finer sight than painted 
 canvas or carved stone. Certainly I like 
 a glass of good fresh water, but I do not scorn 
 wine and ale, and that's why I can no longer 
 stand the simple life." 
 
 " Certainly," I said, interrupting him, 
 " the simple life is madness, nothing else." 
 " Of course it is," he answered, nodding ap- 
 provingly. " Where is the pleasure and 
 value of man's old age that he should prolong 
 it for many years and sacrifice the pleasures 
 of life to enable him to do so. Who wants 
 his ten or twenty years after sixty that he 
 should make such efforts to live them ? 
 It is damn selfishness, nothing else. It is
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 219 
 
 better for his family if lie does not reach a 
 great age, and it is certainly better for the 
 world. Let me enjoy the pleasures of life 
 until I am about sixty-five, and I am then 
 well satisfied to go. As for living a hard, 
 cold life — drinking water instead of wine, 
 giving up tobacco, eating plain food until I 
 ruin my appetite, keeping from theatres so 
 as to go to bed early — to sacrifice these 
 pleasures so as to live a few more years 
 that have no enjoyment, is rot, my friend — 
 utter rot, nonsense and the worst of mad- 
 ness. Let me enjoy the best things going, 
 and I am quite satisfied to quit this life at 
 sixty-five. I have no desire to be either a 
 drunkard or a glutton, but I will have my 
 share of life's luxuries. Let my life be like 
 a silk thread, and not a piece of common 
 elastic of the same length, which I endeavour 
 to stretch to the utmost. Misers live long, 
 by eating very plain food and very little of it 
 — but what a wretched life it is ! What ! have 
 you finished already ? " " Yes, thank you," 
 I answered ; " but I will take what is left 
 and enjoy it in the lodging-house, where I 
 will make a pot of tea. To tell you the truth,
 
 220 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 cold water chills my stomach, and it's a 
 wonder for me to drink it." "Of course it 
 does," he said with deep sympathy. ** A 
 beggar's life in this country is hard indeed," 
 I continued ; "for it is nothing but dry food 
 from morning till night, and from day to 
 day." " Have you been in other countries 
 then ? " he asked, beginning to show a new 
 interest. " I have been in America," I an- 
 swered. " People live better there than in 
 England, don't they ? " he asked. Now this 
 question took me quite unawares, for before 
 I knew what I was doing, I began to tell him 
 some of my begging experiences in that 
 country. " Yes," I said, warming to the 
 subject ; "in that country hundreds of 
 houses in the suburbs of a city had meals 
 ready cooked for me. And if I was too tired 
 to walk beyond the public thoroughfares, 
 all I had to do was to stand outside a res- 
 taurant and stop a customer as he was 
 going in, saying, ' Any chance for a bit of 
 dinner ? ' In nine cases out of ten he would 
 answer yes. After which I would follow him 
 inside, seat myself at a table, take up the bill 
 of fare, read it deliberately, and then give
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 221 
 
 the waiter my order, which would be for 
 a meal of courses. And it was not unusual 
 for one of these customers to give me the 
 price of my next meal before I left him." 
 
 While I was saying this the man was 
 looking at me with what I thought to be 
 amazement. At last he said, rather timidly, 
 " Perhaps you would not care to be bothered 
 with that ? " pointing to half a loaf of brown 
 bread and a bit of cheese. *' Of course I care 
 to take it," I answered at once ; "I am in 
 England now, not America." Hearing this 
 he went to a corner of the room and found 
 a large brown paper bag. Taking this bag, 
 I placed the bread at the bottom and the 
 cheese on the top of it. But just as I was 
 about to close the mouth of the bag, he 
 said, " Perhaps you would like a little 
 more, for I am off to London to-night — to 
 hell with the simple life ! " Saying this he 
 went to a cupboard, and then brought back 
 three eggs and four large apples, which I 
 placed in the bag. After thanking him again 
 I left, well satisfied with my day's work. 
 
 When I reached the lodging-house I saw 
 that Ferny had already arrived, not having
 
 222 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 had much good luck. He appeared quite 
 willing to share mine. I came to the con- 
 clusion that he would not have offered so 
 much good information if he had not ex- 
 pected to profit in the end. No doubt the 
 people were getting tired of his face, for 
 he had been in that part of the country for 
 a long time. I remember how he had said, 
 that very morning, that he hardly knew where 
 to go. 
 
 When I told him about the man leading 
 the simple life, and my experience, he seemed 
 astonished. In fact, he was considerably 
 upset, saying that I had not taken the full 
 advantage of a good thing, as he would have 
 done. " What about his bottles, glasses, cups 
 and saucers ? " he demanded. ** I did not 
 ask him about them," I answered. " Good 
 God ! " cried Ferny, speaking in a voice of 
 anguish. *' Good God ! What about his 
 old clobber ? Didn't you ask him ?" he 
 continued, looking at me wide-eyed, as 
 though he began to doubt my sanity. " I 
 beheve I have done very well as it is," I said 
 shortly, feeling piqued at these questions. 
 " I must be at that house the first thing in
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 223 
 
 the morning," said Ferny, with emphasis. 
 When I told him that it would be too late, he 
 almost fainted and gasped for air. 
 
 During the evening Ferny said that he 
 knew the cottage well, having called at it 
 several times. But only once had he suc- 
 ceeded in seeing the simple liver, and on that 
 occasion had received some assistance. On 
 the other occasions the door had been locked, 
 the man being out. 
 
 That Ferny was thoroughly upset there 
 can be no doubt. For more than once during 
 the evening he wondered where were the 
 man's clothes, or, to use his own words — 
 " Where's the man's clobber ? " Not that he 
 was accusing me of murdering the man and 
 stealing his clothes, but that he — Ferny — 
 was anxious to know whether the man had 
 taken them with him or left them behind in 
 the cottage. In fact, the last thing Ferny 
 said to me that night was, " What has 
 become of the man's old clobber — not to 
 mention glasses, bottles and jars ? Where's 
 his old clobber ? That's what I want to 
 know."
 
 XVIII 
 
 A Shock 
 
 THE life of a beggar is not without 
 danger, even in a country like Eng- 
 land. The danger of such a life in America 
 is, of course, great, owing to travelling on the 
 railroads and camping out in the woods. 
 However, the American tramp gets hardened 
 to fear, and he would not continue that life 
 very long if he could not laugh at its dangers. 
 I often think now of the nights when I went 
 groping in the woods for fuel and, humming 
 or whistling a tune, would overturn hollow 
 logs and roll them to the fire. A tramp tries 
 to do these things before dark, but sometimes 
 he cannot find a good place to camp, and 
 night takes him unaware. At that time I 
 would never think of venomous snakes that 
 were likely to be sheltered under a log or 
 in its hollow. I often think of this now, 
 which fortunately never occurred to me then, 
 
 224
 
 A SHOCK 225 
 
 or I would have been robbed of many a 
 pleasant fire in the woods at night. One 
 time, when I was gathering wood, and had 
 overturned a large log, I suddenly heard a 
 loud buzzing sound, and the next instant the 
 air became so black that I could not see the 
 blaze of my fire which was only a few feet 
 away. And then thousands of hard things 
 like small stones struck me so hard that I 
 thought I would soon be beaten to the ground. 
 However, in a short time the air cleared, and 
 I could then see, by the light of my fire, 
 thousands of beetles of some kind crawling 
 over the earth. No doubt very great numbers 
 of them had perished in the flames, which 
 had attracted them after they had been dis- 
 turbed ; for while I stood at the fire they 
 continued to fall for some time after. 
 
 On another occasion, when I was gathering 
 wood in the dark, with no other hght than 
 my fire, I caught hold of what appeared 
 to be a broken bough hanging straight from 
 the tree, which I expected to fall into my 
 hand almost at a touch. But I had no sooner 
 touched it than I jumped back three feet or 
 more, and my heart almost stopped beating 
 Q
 
 226 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 — ^it was not hard, but soft. After I had 
 thoroughly recovered from this shock, I 
 made a torch of a roll of paper and cautiously 
 approached it. It was then that I saw it was a 
 dead snake, and I could see the marks across 
 its back that had killed it. No doubt it had 
 been killed that day, and then tossed over the 
 limb of that tree. But whether the man's 
 object had been to frighten others, or only 
 pride to show his deed, the same as another 
 would cut his name in the bark — whatever 
 his object had been, I cannot say. The next 
 morning I measured the snake by my own 
 body, and judged it to be about seven feet 
 long. 
 
 However, what I want to say is, that on 
 my second day at Wycombe I had an ex- 
 perience that unnerved me as no other had 
 ever done, which put all question of begging 
 houses out of my mind for a long time to 
 come. I had gone to a small village about 
 a mile and a half out of the town, which 
 Ferny had strongly recommended. As I was 
 going from house to house, confident with 
 success, I saw a fine large house standing in 
 its own grounds, which had a long gravel
 
 A SHOCK 227 
 
 path to the front door. Opening the gate 
 I took this path, and then took a smaller one 
 that led to the back of the house. Now, 
 fortunately for me, when I reached the end 
 of the house and turned the corner suddenly, 
 I stood still, so as to take a glance at my 
 surroundings. In an instant my eyes settled 
 on two large bulldogs gnawing some bones 
 and with their backs turned. When I saw 
 those dogs I stood like a man frozen, without 
 power to either turn back or advance. I had 
 often read in books about a man's hair 
 standing on end through fear, but I did not 
 think it possible until now. On this occasion 
 I came by the truth, and knew that it was 
 no exaggeration. I felt my cap rise, as my 
 hair began to stand. In fact, I put up my 
 hand to prevent the cap from falling, thinking 
 that its motion would attract the notice of 
 those two dogs. Of course it must be re- 
 membered that I knew what bulldogs were ; 
 that they could not be kept at bay by kicks 
 or threatening to throw stones ; that, if 
 they once attacked me, they could not be 
 called off by a mistress or master. Those 
 dogs would have torn me to pieces, I felt
 
 228 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 sure of that, for I had not even a stick to 
 defend myself with. It must have taken me 
 a full minute to recover myself sufficiently 
 to turn around and creep away without 
 making the least noise. When I began to 
 move again, I hardly knew whether I was 
 on my feet or on my head. And after I had 
 got clear away from that house, my narrow 
 escape gave me such a dumb stupor that 
 I had to lean against a fence for about ten 
 minutes. Those dogs would most certainly 
 have attacked me, seeing that I was sneaking 
 around the back way.
 
 XIX 
 
 Back in London 
 
 ON the third day after my experience 
 in the last chapter, money came to 
 me from home. It was only a few pounds, 
 not enough for any practical purpose, but 
 still it made me independent. So I decided 
 to return to London and live on my small 
 income, visiting the various common lodging- 
 houses in that city. The sight of those two 
 large bulldogs had unnerved me, and I was 
 determined to do no more house-calling. 
 However, I made up my mind to walk to 
 London, and not take a train, for I had no 
 special object in reaching it. 
 
 That morning, after I had changed my 
 postal orders, I returned to the lodging-house 
 to cook breakfast, and to make up a lunch 
 that would last me for the day. As I was 
 doing this I got into conversation with 
 another beggar, who had arrived there the 
 
 229
 
 230 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 night before. He was a clean-looking man, 
 looking very much like a labourer going to 
 work on a Monday morning. In the course 
 of conversation he told me that he was sick 
 of travelling the country, and that he could 
 do better by living in London and working 
 the suburbs and outskirts, paying his train 
 fare to and fro. He said that he wanted 
 more houses, and that the country had too 
 many trees to please his mind. He ad- 
 mitted that the small country towns were 
 all right for begging, but complained bitterly 
 of the great number of fields he had to pass 
 to reach from one to another. He said that 
 the country was too quiet, and he wanted 
 to be where he could see and hear plenty 
 of work going on. He said that he had now 
 given the people of Deptford and Wands- 
 worth a good spell of freedom, and that they 
 would have no cause to complain of his 
 coming back to them for a month or two. 
 
 While he was telling me these things I 
 was all ready to leave, so I said, " I am 
 going your way, are you ready ? " " Yes," 
 he answered, rising to his feet. So we left 
 the lodging-house together. " What part of
 
 BACK IN LONDON 231 
 
 London are you making for ? " I asked, as 
 we went along. " Deptford," he answered. 
 *' Do you know of a good common lodging- 
 house in that part of London ? " I asked. 
 " The one I am going to," he answered, 
 " used to be all right, but there are some 
 crooked people there now, and it is not near 
 so good as it used to be." " Then why 
 are you going to it ? " I questioned, sur- 
 prised at his words, for I knew there were 
 plenty of other lodging-houses in that locality. 
 He did not answer this question, which, on 
 reflection, did not surprise me. For I now 
 saw that he looked on that particular lodging- 
 house as a home. 
 
 I have seen the case of a common lodging- 
 house going to wrack and ruin, the owner 
 getting too mean or indifferent to keep good 
 fires, replace broken crockeryware, and letting 
 the beds go filthy — and still the old lodgers 
 clung to that house instead of going to a 
 better one that was as cheap and only a few 
 steps away. They still clung to that house, 
 grumbling and swearing every minute of the 
 day ; and if they were asked why they did 
 not go elsewhere, the question would have
 
 232 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 surprised them, as mine had surprised my 
 companion. The house had become a home 
 to them, and they considered it their duty 
 to Hve there still ; much the same as sons 
 and daughters cling to a house that has been 
 made wretched by drunken parents. Even 
 people that live in respectable private houses 
 do the same thing. It is strange how much 
 they will suffer, after they have been in a 
 place for a few months. They become such 
 slaves to their surroundings that the house 
 next door would have to be turned into a 
 menagerie of roaring lions, laughing hyaenas, 
 screaming parrots and chattering monkeys, 
 before they would look for another house. 
 When I considered these things, I was not 
 surprised to hear that my companion was 
 returning to a house that was worse than 
 others of its kind and no cheaper for a poor 
 man. 
 
 As we were walking through a small village, 
 my companion went to several houses, but 
 said, each time he rejoined me, that he was 
 in bad luck. At last he saw a small house 
 standing by itself, which he said looked a 
 likely one for a sandwich or a penny. So
 
 BACK IN LONDON 233 
 
 he left my side and I walked on with slow 
 steps, so that he could overtake me soon. 
 However, he was at that house so long that 
 I turned my head to see if he was coming, 
 thinking that perhaps he had been invited 
 indoors. When I looked I saw him making 
 all haste towards me, without turning his 
 head either to the right or left, and walking 
 in such a business way as surprised me. He 
 had no sooner reached my side than he said 
 in a quick, low voice, "Come on, or there 
 will be trouble." He walked too fast to be 
 questioned, for I could not keep up with him. 
 In fact, I got very much annoyed at his 
 haste, and let him go ahead, without making 
 much effort to keep his company. He con- 
 tinued in this way until he was out of the 
 village, and then he stopped and waited for 
 me. " Why do you hurry ? " I asked, when 
 I had reached him. *' I have had good 
 cause," he answered, "for I was nearly 
 arrested by a policeman." And then he went 
 on to explain what had happened. When 
 I heard what he said, I could not help laugh- 
 ing, for he had saved himself by his wit and 
 nothing else. The door had been answered
 
 234 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 by a policeman in full uniform, and, of 
 course, the latter knew that my companion 
 was a beggar that had fallen into a trap. 
 However, my companion looked at the 
 policeman, and said, " I have had nothing 
 to eat since yesterday, and I have come to 
 tell you that I don't want anything." When 
 the policeman heard this strange sentence he 
 was more confounded than my companion 
 had been on seeing him. But at last he 
 could see the artfulness of those words and 
 began to laugh heartily. The end of it was 
 that he gave my companion a large piece of 
 bread with some cheese and also a penny. 
 However, he told him to clear out of the 
 village at once, or it would be the worse for 
 him. 
 
 Hearing this and having formed a good 
 opinion of my companion, I told him not to call 
 at any more houses, that I had received a few 
 shiUings from home and would see that he 
 wanted for nothing until we reached Deptford. 
 "After that," I said, "you will have to shift for 
 yourself." He seemed to be very well pleased 
 to hear this, saying that he could always do 
 well in London, and would not forget to see
 
 BACK IN LONDON 235 
 
 that I wanted for nothing. With this under- 
 standing we continued our way. And as we 
 went my companion told me something of 
 his own Ufe. How he had worked very hard 
 for a number of years, but could save nothing 
 because his wages were so small. At last he 
 got out of work through slackness of trade, 
 and soon had to depend on his friends ; 
 for a whole winter almost he was idle and 
 depending on others. But when spring came 
 he had the courage to leave them and seek 
 work in other towns. However, try as much 
 as he could, there was no work to be had. 
 At last he began to see that it was foohsh to 
 worry about work, seeing that he was able 
 to live without it. He had been doing without 
 it now for a long time. It was the same tale as 
 thousands of beggars could tell. 
 
 It was a warm morning, but a little wind 
 was blowing, which made it impossible to 
 enjoy smoking our pipes in comfort. So, 
 when we came to a green bank lined with 
 thick hedges, I proposed sitting for a while 
 in the sun and out of the wind, so as to enjoy 
 a pipe of tobacco. This was our only object 
 in sitting down, for we felt no signs of being
 
 236 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 tired, seeing that we had not yet travelled 
 more than three miles. 
 
 While we sat there smoking and talking, 
 we were approached by a man who, in spite 
 of his rough looks, we judged to be an 
 inhabitant of that district who was then 
 out of work. This man wished us good 
 morning, and was about to pass on ; but 
 he altered his mind and stood before us 
 with his hands in his pockets. " How do 
 you fellows manage on the road ? " he 
 asked bluntly ; "do you get enough to 
 eat and a bed every night ? " I did not 
 know how to answer this question, for it 
 would not be wise for beggars to let a man of 
 that kind know the truth. However, my 
 companion at once took the responsibility 
 on himself and answered with something of 
 a groan, "It is a hard life, mate, indeed it 
 is." Probably my companion thought the 
 man was not too far down in the world to 
 give a little help to others. " The reason I 
 ask," said the stranger, after a long pause," is 
 that I am going on the road myself next week. 
 I have been a hard-working man all my 
 life, and worked like a slave ; but I got out
 
 BACK IN LONDON 237 
 
 of work a month ago, and it is only by the 
 kindness of others that I now get a Uttle to 
 eat and a place to sleep. I am only an un- 
 skilled labourer, and when I am in steady 
 work I can earn no more than enough to 
 keep myself from week to week. The conse- 
 quence is that when I get out of work I have 
 nothing saved. So, if a beggar can get 
 enough to eat and a bed at night, without 
 being a slave, why should I be a working 
 man any longer ? " When my companion 
 heard this his manner changed immediately, 
 and he said in a straightforward way, " Take 
 to the road, mate, and be a working slave no 
 longer. I was in exactly the same position 
 as you a few years ago, but I became wise ; 
 for I am just as well off now as when I was 
 a hard-working man." 
 
 While we were talking a tall, fine-looking 
 gentleman passed, smoking a cigarette, with 
 a cap tilted jauntily on his head and carrying 
 a light cane under his arm. When this gentle- 
 man was beyond hearing the stranger said, 
 looking after him, " That's Mr. Swan." 
 " What does he do ? " I asked. " Nothing," 
 answered the stranger ; " he's a rich gentle-
 
 238 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 man. He has just pensioned his old gardener 
 off with five shilHngs a week. The gardener 
 was old and unable to do any more work." 
 " How old was he ? " I asked. " About 
 sixty-five/' answered the stranger. " And 
 how old is Mr. Swan ? " asked my companion. 
 " Oh, he is quite seventy," was the answer. 
 When I heard this I looked at my companion, 
 and he understood my meaning. That fine, 
 straight, active old gentleman, with his 
 springy walk, carrying a light cane instead of 
 a strong walking-stick, smoking a cigarette, 
 and with his cap jauntily on one side — this 
 fine-looking old gentleman was years older 
 than his worn-out servant. " Hard work," 
 began my companion, as though in answer to 
 my thoughts, " hard work does kill men, 
 there is no doubt of that. The bus horse is a 
 good instance of what hard work can do : 
 in 1903 he is young, hardy, strong, and shies ; 
 in 1904 he is old; worn, shaky, and with no 
 spirit ; in 1905 he is cat's meat. Why, if 
 donkeys were not stubborn, and did not re- 
 fuse to hurry with heavy loads, they would 
 not live very long." 
 
 While we were sitting there — for the
 
 BACK IN LONDON 239 
 
 stranger had now sat down near us — talking 
 of the ill-results of hard work, we saw an 
 old man tottering towards us, holding in his 
 hands a bunch of herbs. However, it would 
 be a long time before he reached us, so I 
 asked the stranger who he was. " That's old 
 Smith," was the answer ; " he is not quite 
 right in his mind. But although he is bent 
 double and hobbles along with a stick, for all 
 that, he is not so old as Mr. Swan, the fine- 
 looking gentleman who has just passed us. 
 We can't understand, in these parts, what 
 has made old Smith what he is, for he seems 
 to be ruined in both body and mind. He 
 has always been a farm labourer, and never 
 been able to afford any other than the plainest 
 food, so that rich living has not done it. He 
 has never been to London or any other large 
 city, but has always breathed the pure country 
 air. He has never had an accident or serious 
 illness or great trouble — that his neighbours 
 know of — and yet he is in that wretched 
 state. To tell you the truth, some of the 
 people around here seem to think that he is 
 not near so bad as he makes out, for he is not 
 yet seventy years of age. Mr. Swan, that
 
 240 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 fine-looking gentleman who has just passed 
 us, is that age, and look at the difference 
 between them." " What makes the dif- 
 ference," said my companion, looking at the 
 stranger and speaking with strong emphasis, 
 " what makes the difference is hard work, 
 and nothing else." 
 
 The old herb-gatherer had now drawn near, 
 and I could see that he shook in every part 
 of his body. As soon as he got close to us, 
 he stood and began to laugh and chatter, 
 and, feeling kindly towards old age, I nodded 
 to him encouragingly. He began at once by 
 saying that he had no sooner seen those wild 
 herbs than it had suddenly occurred to his 
 mind that his parents were very poor and 
 used to gather them to make tea with. And 
 that he had no sooner began to gather them 
 than scores of long-forgotten things came 
 to his memory, which was very strange. It 
 brought to his mind how his mother had been 
 a hard-working woman and his father a very 
 contrary man. 
 
 We sat listening to the old man for a long 
 time, for we did not like to interrupt him, 
 though he talked and talked without showing
 
 BACK IN LONDON 241 
 
 the least sign of going away. But after 
 listening to him for fully ten minutes, we 
 could not make the least sense out of what he 
 had said — except that his mother had been 
 a hard-working woman and his father a very 
 contrary man, which he mentioned time after 
 time. In vain I questioned him as to his age, 
 who he was living with and where, and 
 what kind of tea the herbs made. I don't 
 know whether he was deaf or too eager to 
 talk ; all I know is that he took not the least 
 notice of my questions, but rambled on in 
 his own strange manner. Only one thing he 
 made clear — that his mother had been a 
 hard-working woman and his father a very 
 contrary man ; and that this knowledge 
 suddenly came into his mind when he saw 
 and began to gather his herbs. 
 
 It was clear right from the beginning 
 that the old man was not himself. For in- 
 stance, he treated the three of us in the 
 same familiar way, without making any 
 distinction. If he had been all right in his 
 mind, he would, of course, have recognized 
 the man that was with us, seeing that they 
 both belonged to the same neighbourhood,
 
 242 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 But he did not appear to notice him at 
 all. 
 
 However, we could not remain there much 
 longer, as we had already wasted more time 
 than we meant to. So we wished the stranger 
 and the old man good-bye and continued 
 on our journey. 
 
 We reached Deptford in due course, having 
 broken our journey overnight at Uxbridge. 
 There was nothing of interest to relate in 
 those two days' travel, for we were not calling 
 at houses, but simply walking and talking of 
 our own experiences. My companion's life 
 had not furnished him with much strange 
 matter, so that he preferred to listen to my 
 own doings in America, which appeared to 
 interest him deeply. It brought to his mind 
 that he once had a chance to go there, and 
 that he had never so much regretted not 
 having gone as now, when he heard my 
 account of how well beggars fared in that 
 new country.
 
 XX 
 
 Thieves in a Lodo^itiQ^-house 
 
 As we were entering London my companion 
 L seemed to get as excited as a horse near 
 fire. The sound of the traffic and the 
 vast crowds of people seemed to rouse him 
 into a state of activity. When we were on the 
 country road his eyes had been always on the 
 ground, but now they were here, there and 
 everywhere. As for myself, I felt the same 
 fascination as I had always done on entering 
 that city, but which soon wears away. I 
 knew that my feelings would soon change, 
 and that I would soon be anxious to leave 
 again. 
 
 When we reached Deptford my companion 
 turned off the main street, going into a 
 narrow one. In a few moments he stopped 
 in front of a dark building, saying, " This is 
 the lodging-house." Now, seeing that my 
 companion must be known in this house I 
 
 243
 
 244 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 had given him the money to pay for both 
 our beds. I had also given him money to 
 buy food, with the understanding that he 
 would do the cooking, so that I could sit still 
 in the kitchen, and none of the other lodgers 
 would then know for sure whether I was 
 strange to that lodging-house or not. If I 
 had not done this it would have been neces- 
 sary to ask questions, and, if there had been 
 any thieves present, they would have soon 
 taken advantage of a stranger. Of course, 
 all common lodging-houses have a certain 
 number of thieves. 
 
 A greenhorn is soon recognized by the 
 number of questions he asks. For this reason 
 men who are used to common lodging-houses 
 seldom ask many questions when they go to 
 a house that is strange to them. They simply 
 take a seat, light their pipes, and then watch 
 the other lodgers. In less than ten minutes 
 they can then see for themselves where hot 
 or cold water is, where to empty a pot of tea- 
 leaves, where to wash, where the different 
 cooking utensils are kept, which way leads 
 to their beds, and other knowledge that is 
 necessary to them. But the greenhorn uses
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 245 
 
 his tongue instead of his eyes, and the conse- 
 quence is that he makes himself a mark for 
 both beggars and thieves. 
 
 It is the greenhorn who is always marked 
 for the egg-and-bacon trick — but this bare- 
 faced trick is only done in a house that is 
 really a den of thieves. The innocent green- 
 horn places his tea, sugar and bread on 
 a table, where he leaves them to go and place 
 a rasher of bacon on the fire. Leaving this 
 rasher in the frying-pan for a moment or 
 two, while he goes to arrange his tea things, 
 he returns to find a fellow-lodger busy at the 
 fire frying an egg and a rasher of bacon. 
 " Where's my bacon ? " asks the green- 
 horn of a number of lodgers who have been 
 all the time standing and gossiping near the 
 fire. These men either take no notice of 
 him or look a great deal surprised. " I 
 haven't seen it, lad," answers the man who 
 is cooking, at the same time as he peppers 
 his egg or turns it over. The greenhorn 
 does not know what to make of this, and the 
 poor fellow will probably find his tea and 
 sugar also gone when he gets back to his 
 table. I once saw this trick served on a
 
 246 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 fellow-cattleman, but it would have been 
 folly on my part to have exposed it, as there 
 were twenty men against us. He was more 
 amused than angered when I afterwards ex- 
 plained to him how it was done ; how one 
 of the lodgers had quickly broken an egg into 
 the frying-pan that contained his bacon. 
 But it had never once occurred to his simple 
 mind that the owner of the egg was not the 
 owner of the bacon. I could soon see that 
 this particular house, to which my companion 
 had taken me, was full of thieves. In fact, 
 my companion made me aware of it at once 
 by his instructions to sit near the food and 
 keep my eye on it while he was gathering 
 together plates, cups and saucers. He not 
 only gave me these instructions, but every 
 time he had a chance, cast his own eyes in 
 my direction. And when I began to study 
 my surroundings, and saw the number of 
 young loafers that were present, and how 
 their eyes were continually shifting from 
 each other to me and my companion — when 
 I saw this, I came to the conclusion at once 
 that we only had to leave the kitchen for 
 half a minute and when we came back our
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 247 
 
 food would be gone. However, they did not 
 have the least chance, and we were soon both 
 seated and enjoying an excellent meal. 
 
 ** I don't like the looks of some of these 
 fellows," I said to my companion, speaking 
 in a low voice. " They soon pick up what 
 does not belong to them," he answered. 
 " Have they ever taken anything of yours ? " 
 I asked. ** No," he laughed ; " they have 
 never had the chance — although I was in 
 great difficulty one day." " What happened 
 then ? " I asked, with deep interest. " Well," 
 began my companion, " I had already cooked 
 my meal and was just about to begin eating, 
 when I discovered that I had no sugar, and 
 to drink tea without it would have spoilt my 
 meal. Now, seeing that the shop was across 
 the road, I would have to leave the house, and 
 I know that something would be gone when 
 I returned. There were several present, 
 whom I knew well to be lodging-house 
 loafers and thieves, so I did not know what 
 to do. At last I thought of a plan. I went 
 up to one of them, whom I knew to be the 
 worst thief in the house, and told him in a 
 quiet voice the difficulty I was in, and asked
 
 248 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 him to keep his eye on my things while I was 
 away. I could see at once that he did not 
 like my request, but of course he could not 
 very well excuse himself. So he gave me 
 a reluctant promise that he would, and I 
 went out feeling quite satisfied. This artful 
 dodge saved me, for when I came back I 
 found things exactly as I had left them. 
 For his kindness I gave him a drink of tea and 
 a pipeful of tobacco. After that I was always 
 safe, as far as he was concerned." 
 
 When I thought of this trick I could not 
 help admiring its artfulness. It was as 
 though he told the worst thief that he was 
 chosen for an honest, trustworthy face, and 
 the wretch would feel flattered at the choice. 
 How innocent he must have tried to look 
 when my companion made that simple re- 
 quest ! 
 
 After we had finished tea we sat in the 
 kitchen for two or three hours, smoking and 
 chatting. When the clock struck ten I told 
 my companion that I would go to bed, and 
 he said that he would do the same. Being 
 a stranger it was necessary for me to go to 
 the office, give the number of my bed and be
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 249 
 
 instructed where to find it. This I did, and 
 the porter in charge was coming to show me 
 my bed, when my companion said, " He 
 is in the same room as I am, and I will show 
 him his bed." 
 
 At last we reached the room, after climbing 
 a long flight of stairs. The room was a very 
 large one, having about twenty beds in it, 
 and mine was at the door, while my com- 
 panion's was at the far end. I wished him 
 good night and was soon lying down, not 
 feeling at all easy in my new position. For 
 I did not like my bed to be so near to the door, 
 seeing that every lodger could have a look 
 at me before going to his own bed. The 
 lodgers would then see that I was a stranger, 
 and, of course, if there were any thieves in 
 that room, a stranger would be their mark. 
 However, I had not only put my waistcoat — 
 which contained my money — under my pillow, 
 but had drawn the latter down so far that 
 the waistcoat was really under the weight of 
 my shoulders and would be very difficult to 
 withdraw. There was a gas jet in the room 
 and, although the light was now turned low, 
 it was quite sufficient to discourage thieves.
 
 25© THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 I don't know whether anyone was trying 
 to get at my waistcoat and woke me, or that 
 my eyes opened by accident — whatever it 
 was, open they did, and I saw a face leaning 
 over mine. " What's the matter ? " I asked, 
 moving, so as to sit up in bed. " Oh, it's all 
 right," answered the intruder ; "I made 
 a mistake, thinking it was someone I knew," 
 With these words he walked away to a bed 
 at the other end of the room, where he began 
 to undress. Of course I knew very well that 
 he had made no mistake, and was determined 
 to keep awake, thinking he would return 
 when he thought I would be asleep. 
 
 However, I must have soon gone to sleep 
 again, but don't know for how long. All I 
 know is that I heard a loud voice, which made 
 me sit up in bed. As soon as I opened my 
 eyes I saw that the light was out and that 
 the room was in total darkness. " Who has 
 turned that light out ? " demanded a loud 
 voice. It must have been this man asking 
 the question before that had wakened me. 
 There was no answer to his question, except 
 that other lodgers were now awake and 
 began complaining as well. All at once there
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 251 
 
 was a small, sudden flash of light, due to one 
 of the lodgers having struck a match. It was 
 the worst thing he could have done, for 
 another lodger leaped out of his bed, made 
 a rush towards the light-maker and struck 
 him a heavy blow in the face. This blow 
 was the signal for a general rising. For I 
 could hear men getting out of bed, and the 
 next moment there was a fight going on in 
 the dark. Men were falling against each 
 other and striking out blindly, and their 
 blows were followed by curses and groans. 
 Some of them were using their fists, and 
 others, as I was told after, used the heels of 
 their heavy boots, and two or three were using 
 the buckles of heavy belts. In a fight of this 
 kind every man was for himself. Whoever 
 he touched in the dark would be an enemy 
 to strike, for he would not know his friends. 
 Several men were on the floor, tearing and 
 biting like wild animals. 
 
 Right at the beginning of this trouble 
 I had had the presence of mind to put on 
 my clothes. I was just ready to open the 
 door and escape when several men, fighting 
 and struggling, fell against it. In an instant
 
 252 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 I got on my bed, slipped over the other side 
 of it, and stood upright against the wall, 
 with the bed between me and them. It was 
 very fortunate that I did this, for others had 
 now succeeded in fighting their way to the 
 door, which of course they could not open 
 owing to their own pressure being against it. 
 I could hear the manager's voice outside, 
 as he stood there powerless, for there must 
 have been a dozen men fighting against the 
 door. 
 
 I don't know what the end of this would 
 have been, had it not been for the presence 
 of mind of one man. He had not risen from 
 his bed at all until now, when he heard all 
 the others fighting at the far end of the 
 room, trying to escape. Knowing that he 
 was now safe to move with freedom, he got 
 up, struck a match and lit the gas. This light 
 was of course the signal for peace, except 
 that two of the lodgers were lying across a 
 bed trying to strangle each other. I found 
 out after that these two men were thieves 
 and great friends, and that they had mistaken 
 each other in the dark. One of them was the 
 man that had leaned over my bed, and no
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 253 
 
 doubt it was he that had put out the Hght, 
 so as to make another attempt to search my 
 clothes. I was very pleased to think that 
 these two, who had probably arranged all 
 this, should have stumbled against each 
 other in the dark, and, without knowing it, 
 pommelled each other's face until they were 
 covered with blood. 
 
 This was my only experience, in all my 
 association with rough men, where I have 
 known men to fight like cats, to use their 
 limbs like cats instead of men ; biting, tear- 
 ing, choking and scratching, and using every 
 advantage of tooth and nail. The only case 
 I can think of, when men would do this, is 
 when they fight under these conditions. In 
 trying to escape they would soon be jammed 
 against the door, where they would try to 
 tear each other to pieces. Every man would 
 be for himself, for he would not be able to 
 tell a friend from an enemy. If they are not 
 soon set free, from the outside, or discovered 
 by light, they will be struggling in one heap 
 on the floor, making the same sounds as 
 common beasts. All thought of fair play 
 and scientific fighting known to man would
 
 254 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 be forgotten, and the coolest and most 
 courageous would soon be acting in the 
 same manner as fighting cats. This is the 
 only case I can think of in which men would 
 behave like cats, when they would have to 
 light for their lives — owing to not having 
 a cat's advantage of seeing in the dark. 
 
 However, the fight was soon over, but it 
 was horrible while it lasted. As soon as the 
 gas was lit the men stopped fighting, and the 
 manager had a chance to enter the room. 
 When he had done so, he did not seem to be 
 greatly concerned, so I suppose such fights 
 had happened before. As long as there was 
 no one dead, or injured to helplessness, it 
 did not matter much, although it was very 
 annoying, he said, *' to have to leave his bed 
 to see what was the matter." 
 
 For the rest of the night all was quiet, 
 although every man that had received a 
 blow said, before he went to sleep again, 
 "I'd like to know the man that struck me 
 first and tore my shirt to pieces." Each man 
 was fortunate that he did not, or he would 
 have had more fighting to do that night, 
 without a question of trouble the next day
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 255 
 
 As it was, no man would feel ashamed at 
 getting a beating, for the blows were all struck 
 at random and the result was not due to one 
 man being a better fighter than another. 
 In a fight under these circumstances a prize- 
 fighter would have been no better than 
 another man. 
 
 When I questioned my companion, on the 
 following morning, he said that the light had 
 been put out by a thief who wanted a chance 
 to do a little work. " It was very lucky that 
 some one lit it again," I said, " or something 
 serious would have happened." " That was 
 my work," he answered ; "I have been in 
 the same position before and have done the 
 same thing. Perhaps the thief had you for a 
 mark, seeing that you were a stranger." I said 
 nothing to this, but when I thought of the 
 man who had leaned over me, I felt satisfied 
 that all the trouble had been due to my 
 presence in that room. 
 
 While I was at breakfast I saw the two 
 men that had struggled together on a bed, 
 afraid to let each other go — standing at the 
 kitchen fire, and with their faces scratched 
 and bruised. Of course, they were quite
 
 2s6 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 friendly now, for they knew what a mistake 
 they had made in attacking each other. I 
 could not help noticing how often they looked 
 sideways at me, as though they were curious 
 to know if I had any suspicion of their in- 
 tentions the night before. As far as I could 
 do so with my looks, I let them know that 
 I had, for it was not my intention to spend 
 another night in that house. I could not 
 understand why they made me their mark, 
 for I had not shown any money, I was not 
 drunk, neither was I well dressed. Perhaps 
 they were in very low circumstances, so that 
 even a paltry few pennies would have pleased 
 them. However, they not only failed, but, 
 to my delight, punished each other without 
 knowing it. 
 
 That morning, when I was in the wash- 
 house, a man stepped forward and deliberately 
 picked up my piece of soap. He was walking 
 away with it, when I called out to him, 
 " Ha ! where are you going with that soap ? " 
 " Does it belong to you ? " he asked, quite 
 innocently. " You see me standing here, 
 preparing to wash," I said, surprised at his 
 boldness ; " now, who do you think it
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 257 
 
 belongs to ? " Hearing this he looked con- 
 siderably surprised himself, and at last said, 
 " Why, mate, any man would take a piece 
 of soap." This man was nothing abashed at 
 being caught in the act of thieving. 
 
 Soon after breakfast my companion left 
 me, saying that he was going to some streets 
 where he had often done well before, and that 
 he would see me later in the day. He was a 
 good beggar, I knew that, and could very 
 well do without my assistance, so that I did 
 not feel any compunction at seeing the last 
 of him, for I was now determined to seek 
 fresh lodgings. No doubt he would not feel 
 very sorry at not seeing me again, thinking 
 that I might not be a very successful beggar, 
 and, when my money was gone, would rely 
 on him for help which he could not well 
 refuse. 
 
 At this time I had no idea of making a 
 home of a common lodging-house, so I made 
 up my mind to find one in Whitechapel, 
 at which I would spend a few nights. So, 
 after my companion had left, it was not long 
 before I was out and going in that direction. 
 There was no hurry, seeing that I had the
 
 258 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 whole day before me ; but I thought it 
 would be wise to see the house by day, and 
 the looks of the lodgers going in and out, 
 before I applied for a bed. The looks of the 
 lodgers would decide for me, whether the 
 majority were old or young. If there were 
 many young men, I would not apply for a 
 bed, knowing that they would be bulhes and 
 thieves. But if the majority of the lodgers 
 were old men, I knew that such would not 
 only be harmless, but also interesting to 
 study. 
 
 It was not long before I stood in front 
 of a house which, judging by the few men I 
 saw going in and out, would suit me well. 
 Not only that, but I saw on a board that a 
 mission-room was attached to it, and I knew 
 that no riotous lodgers would be allowed 
 to disturb hymn-singing and prayers. What- 
 ever the lodgers' opinions might be, they 
 would have to express them quietly or go 
 elsewhere. In fact, every lodger that I had 
 seen had a lazy contented look, and I did 
 not see one with those shifting eyes that 
 denote a thief. I was so impressed with all 
 this, that I went to the ofhce at once, paid
 
 THIEVES IN A LODGING-HOUSE 259 
 
 for a bed, and then walked into the lodgers* 
 kitchen. And I had no sooner entered that 
 kitchen than I felt at ease immediately, for 
 when I sat down the lodgers took no notice 
 of me at all. *' These men are not thieves 
 looking for a mark," thought I.
 
 XXI 
 
 Mad Kitty 
 
 WHEN I had been at this lodging-house, 
 which I found to be clean and 
 comfortable, about a week, I made up my 
 mind to have a night out. I always like to 
 see the night-side of London, once now and 
 then, providing I am rich enough to rest on 
 the following day and recover some of my 
 lost sleep. With this intention I made my 
 way towards the West, and found myself in 
 Westminster Bridge Road early in the 
 evening. 
 
 As soon as it became dark I could see that 
 the courtesans were not only increasing in 
 number, but were also becoming bolder, and 
 I knew that their hour had come. In less 
 than ten minutes, when I stood on a street 
 corner, I had been passed and spoken to by 
 several. At last one came boldly up to me and 
 asked if I would go home with her for a short 
 
 260
 
 MAD KITTY 261 
 
 lime. After I had told her no, she went away 
 at once. I did not Hke the look of her much, for 
 she did not appear to be very attractive. She 
 was the very kind of girl that I would suspect 
 of keeping a lazy man whom she foolishly 
 loved or feared. These kind of girls can 
 always be recognized, for they do not dress so 
 smart nor look so cheerful as other girls that 
 are free. A well-dressed courtesan never has 
 a lazy, drunken scoundrel to live on her 
 immorality, or she would have no money to 
 spend on good clothes. And even if a rich 
 admirer occasionally bought her clothes as an 
 extra kindness, the man she keeps would 
 soon have them in a pawnshop. I made no 
 mistake in my opinion of this girl, for as soon 
 as she had left me, I saw a common-looking 
 fellow standing on the opposite corner, and he 
 was watching her wherever she went. And 
 when I saw her cross the road and speak to 
 him, and then leave him to accost another 
 man who took no heed of her, and then return 
 to the corner loafer again — when I saw these 
 things I knew for certain that I had judged 
 right. After that I saw her speak to him 
 several times, but he still remained standing
 
 262 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 where he was, watching her while she tried to 
 stop other men. How I hated a lazy scoundrel 
 of that kind ! There should be no mercy for 
 him when he is tried for beating a girl he is 
 not married to, and who keeps him by her 
 immorality. The unfortunate part of it is that 
 a man of this kind is a thorough bully and 
 threatens to murder a girl if she leaves him, 
 which she often feels inclined to do. She 
 could do much better alone, for she could 
 dress better and attract rich men, and have 
 good rooms to take them to. Whereas, 
 having a drunken, lazy bully to keep, she 
 cannot dress well, and must live in the 
 commonest rooms in the slums. However, 
 when a courtesan has no man to keep her 
 poor, she has another enemy to take advan- 
 tage of her. This is her landlady, who knows 
 the great difficulty these girls have in getting 
 rooms. So this landlady not only charges a 
 girl for one bed-sitting room almost as much 
 as will pay the rent of the whole house, but 
 also expects the poor girl to pay for drinks 
 and take her to a place of amusement. I was 
 with a girl one night who only had one room, 
 which was below the level of the street, and
 
 MAD KITTY 263 
 
 not very well furnished; this girl told me 
 that her expenses ran to twenty-five shillings 
 a week, for one room, the commonest board, 
 washing, and attendance. And if she did not 
 attend on herself and often do her own cook- 
 ing, she would have often gone out hungry 
 and returned to an unmade bed. The land- 
 lady was too proud to wait on a girl of that 
 kind, but she demanded such money all the 
 same. What could the girl do ? It is so 
 difficult for a courtesan to get rooms in a 
 superior-looking street. And when she once 
 succeeds she will put up with anything, and 
 pay all she can, rather than explain to other 
 landladies what she wants the rooms for, 
 and the kind of living she makes. No wonder 
 there are so many girls of this kind that will 
 rob a man, when they are robbed so much 
 themselves. 
 
 It was about twenty minutes past eleven, 
 and I was standing at a bar, smoking my pipe, 
 when all at once the barman — a serious- 
 looking man who had not spoken one word 
 all the time I was there — cried in a cheerful 
 voice, " Hallo, Kitty ! " " Hallo ! " an- 
 swered a girl's voice, in the same cheerful
 
 264 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 manner, and beginning to laugh. " A glass of 
 stout, Kitty ? " asked the barman, beginning 
 to draw it at once, as though he knew what 
 her answer would be. " Of course," answered 
 the girl called Kitty, placing her money on 
 the bar. I turned my head slowly, so as not 
 to appear rude, to see what kind of girl stood 
 at my side. " Good evening," she said, 
 laughing, as soon as our eyes had met. " Good 
 evening," I answered in her own pleasant way, 
 for it was impossible to treat so friendly a 
 girl in any other manner. When the barman 
 heard this greeting he moved some distance 
 off and did not speak again. He knew that 
 she had business to do, and did not want to 
 spoil it by idle talk, although he seemed dis- 
 appointed in not being able to crack a few 
 jokes with her. One look was quite enough, 
 for I felt attracted to her at once, and asked 
 if she would have another drink, which 
 she did. 
 
 After she had had this drink she, of course, 
 asked me if I would go home with her. " Not 
 to-night," I answered, " f or I have very little 
 money." Hearing this she laughed cheerfully 
 and said, " Never mind, perhaps we shall
 
 MAD KITTY 265 
 
 meet again." In a few moments after this 
 she left, waving her hand to the barman, who 
 was standing some distance away. As soon 
 as she was gone the barman came forward 
 and said, " Do you know Mad Kitty ? " 
 " No," I answered, " this is the first time I 
 have met her." " She's an extraordinary 
 girl," said the barman ; "I shall never forget 
 the first time that / met her. I was not a 
 barman here then, although it was in this 
 house that I met her. In fact, I was standing 
 there, where you are now, and the same thing 
 happened to me as have happened to you, 
 except that I went home with her and you 
 have not." " Will you have a drink ? " I 
 asked, being interested in Mad Kitty, and 
 wishing to know more about her. " Thank 
 you," he answered, and drew himself a glass 
 of beer, which I paid for. There happened to 
 be very few customers there at the time, and 
 there was another barman standing idle, so 
 that I knew my barman would have time to 
 tell a story. " What do you mean," I asked, 
 " by saying she's an extraordinary girl ? Did 
 she rob you, or get you into trouble of some 
 kind ? " " Oh, no," he answered. " she is
 
 266 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 quite honest, and you never need to be 
 afraid of going home with Mad Kitty. As I 
 have said, I met her in this bar and, after 
 having a drink or two, we left the house 
 together, just after midnight." Saying this 
 he took another drink of his beer, and then, 
 leaning his two arms on the bar, he prepared 
 to tell the full story, which he began without 
 loss of time. 
 
 " As we walked along this girl Kitty was 
 continually laughing, although her words 
 were mostly serious. She seemed to be a 
 wild, erratic creature that would be capable 
 of any kind of mischief at an impulse. ' I have 
 never seen you before,' she said, looking at 
 me with her face shining with pleasure. * No/ 
 I answered, ' neither have I seen you before.' 
 ' You will always know where to find me now/ 
 she continued, ' for I go into that house, where 
 you met me, every night at about the same 
 time. If you do not see me there, ask the 
 barman if Mad Kitty has been in, and he will 
 tell you. They all call me Mad Kitty.' 
 Saying this she began to laugh heartily. For 
 a moment or two I thought that the girl was 
 really mad, and was almost afraid to go home
 
 MAD KITTY 267 
 
 with her. But in a httle while I came to the 
 conclusion that she was only childishly 
 wild and full of life. In spite of that, I 
 began to wonder whether a girl like that 
 would be safe ; for those very merry girls 
 are often apt to change suddenly, without 
 sufficient cause. And when they do, they 
 make so much noise over nothing that the 
 whole neighbourhood must hear them. How- 
 ever, I thought I would risk it, so I walked 
 quietly at her side, while she continued to 
 talk and laugh. 
 
 " In about ten minutes we came to a side 
 street, down which she turned, and I followed. 
 It was not a very respectable-looking street, 
 but I was not surprised at that. For Mad 
 Kitty was not so well dressed that she could 
 live in a finer neighbourhood, although she 
 was far from being an untid}^ sloven. Wliat 
 had attracted me was her high spirits, and not 
 her clothes. So that I was not much surprised 
 to see that she lived in a mean, narrow street. 
 For one thing I felt quite safe in her compan}^ 
 wherever she might lead me. She had a 
 reputation in the neighbourhood, as I could 
 tell by the way in which the barman had
 
 268 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 greeted her. Moreover, she had told me 
 almost at once that she was called Mad Kitty, 
 and that she was to be found or sought in 
 that one particular public-house. If she had 
 intended to rob me, or get me robbed, or lead 
 me into trouble of some kind, she would not 
 have been so foolish as to tell me these things, 
 I felt sure of that. 
 
 " When we got some distance down the 
 street she stopped in front of a house, took a 
 key out of her pocket and opened the door. 
 ' Don't make more noise than you can help,' 
 she whispered, as I followed her in. However, 
 there was no light in the passage and, be as 
 careful as I could, it was impossible for me 
 to walk a strange place in the dark without 
 stumbling now and then. In fact, when I 
 was climbing the stairs, which had no carpet 
 at all, I kicked it several times and made 
 quite a noise. Each time I did so Kitty 
 came to a halt and whispered ' Sh ! ' I was 
 somewhat nervous at this, for I was under 
 the impression that her landlady, and others 
 in the house, knew what kind of girl she was, 
 and would expect to hear a little noise when 
 she brought a stranger home at night. And,
 
 MAD KITTY 269 
 
 seeing that she was as careful as this, it 
 entered my mind that they did not know 
 what was going on. However, that fear soon 
 vanished, for I knew that she could not keep 
 her life a secret long, seeing that a man must 
 be either seen or heard the next morning, 
 when he leaves the house. And yet why was 
 this wild, erratic, dare-devil girl so particular 
 not to make the least sound ? At last, after 
 much care, we reached the top of the stairs 
 and she opened a door that led into a room. 
 It was dark in there too, so I stood waiting 
 until she made a light. This was done almost 
 immediately, and I then walked in, shut the 
 door after me, and sat down. 
 
 " As soon as I was seated she came close to 
 me and, placing her finger on her lips, 
 whispered, * Don't speak very loud, for there 
 is a boy lying dead in the next room.' When 
 I heard this I was startled, as you may well 
 believe. I looked at her face, which for one 
 moment had a very serious expression ; and 
 I was startled to see the difference in her, for 
 she now looked like a woman of middle age. 
 When she smiled she did not appear to be 
 much over twenty, but when she had this
 
 270 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 serious look she appeared to be over forty. 
 I had never before seen a smile make so much 
 difference in a face. When she looked serious 
 I could see that her face was full of lines, but 
 when she smiled it was as smooth as a baby's. 
 It was very fortunate for her that she was 
 always smiling, for she would not be able to 
 attract many men with her serious look. 
 Judging these two expressions — how young 
 she looked when she smiled, and how old she 
 looked when she did not — I halted half-way 
 and came to the conclusion that she was about 
 thirty years of age. She told me, later in the 
 night, that she was twenty-seven, which I 
 had no doubt was right. However, this 
 serious expression, which had surprised me by 
 the difference it made in her, only lasted an 
 instant, and I never saw it again. 
 
 " ' I am rather surprised,' I said, after a 
 w^hilc, * that you have been allowed to bring a 
 strange man home with you when there is a 
 dead child in the house.' ' That cannot be 
 helped,' she answered in a low voice — ' we 
 must all live. My landlady is very poor, and 
 must pay her rent to-morrow, and I must pay 
 her my rent too. Business must go on, for
 
 MAD KITTY 271 
 
 we have to pay our way, whatever happens.' 
 I was sorry now that I had met her and 
 accompanied her home, but it was too late to 
 make other plans. 
 
 " When we settled for the night she began 
 to tell me, as quietly as she could, what had 
 happened, which I was surprised to hear. ' It 
 all happened because he was jealous that I 
 took more notice of a baby than of him,' she 
 whispered, with a soft laugh. ' He was only 
 seven years old,' she continued, ' and was my 
 landlady's youngest son. I was very fond of 
 him and, to tease him, I used to make much 
 of a baby belonging to another lodger that 
 lives in the top room. When he saw this he 
 used to get furious and said he would kill 
 himself. *' Are you jealous," I used to ask him, 
 " because I am making much of the baby ? " 
 " Yes," he said, " I am, and I will kill myself." 
 After saying that he picked up a knife, which 
 we had to wrench out of his hand. Then he 
 got a rope and said he would hang himself, 
 but his mother took it from him. But he still 
 kept on saying that he would kill himself, and 
 his mother had to put everything she thought 
 would do him harm out of his way. But
 
 272 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 yesterday he found a bottle with poison in it, 
 which he drank. When he began to feel pain 
 he told his mother what he had done. She 
 called me at once and said, " Kitty, he has 
 poisoned himself, run and fetch a doctor." 
 Before I went, I said to him, " Were you 
 jealous because I made much of the baby ? " 
 " Yes," he said, "and I have poisoned myself." 
 That was the last time I heard his voice, for 
 when I came back with a doctor — I could not 
 find one for a very long time — he was dead in 
 his mother's arms.' 
 
 " I was surprised in more ways than one 
 when I heard this strange story. I could not 
 help noticing, by the tone of her voice, that 
 this simple, childlike, and mad-brained young 
 woman took some pride that a life had been 
 sacrificed for love of her — even though it was 
 only a little boy of seven years of age. For 
 she said again, after a pause — ' He was jealous 
 because I made more of the baby than of him, 
 and when I asked him point-blank, he said, 
 " Yes, I will kill myself." ' 
 
 " After saying this she was silent, but I 
 thought I would ask her a question before she 
 went to sleep. * Where did he get his know-
 
 MAD KITTY 273 
 
 ledge from ? ' I asked. * Surely a child of 
 that age would not be able to read papers and 
 books and understand them.' ' Oh, that is 
 easily explained,' she answered. * You see, 
 his mother used to take him to picture shows, 
 where he would see such things done. He got 
 his knowledge of stabbing, hanging, and 
 taking poison in those places of amusement. 
 He very often used to threaten to stab his 
 mother, and one day he took a rope and hung 
 the cat until it was almost dead.' 
 
 " I said no more after this, but I could not 
 sleep for thinking of the strange things I had 
 heard. I knew that these courtesans were 
 very fond of children and made every effort 
 to win their love. That is the reason why 
 they are never scorned by respectable mothers 
 who are very poor. A respectable mother, 
 who is very poor, is not ashamed to be seen 
 out with one o| these courtesans, for she knows 
 that cakes or sweets, aye, sometimes clothes 
 or boots, will be bought for the children, 
 which she cannot afford to pay for herself. A 
 courtesan will be her most faithful and 
 practical friend, if she will allow it. While I 
 was thinking of this, I heard Mad Kitty say
 
 274 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 distinctly in her sleep — ' Jealous because I 
 made much of the baby. Poor little devil ! * 
 That was my experience with Mad Kitty the 
 first time I met her/' 
 
 While the barman was relating this strange 
 experience, he had to leave me several times, 
 owing to customers coming in. In spite of 
 that, I followed his continuations without 
 much trouble. After he had done I paid for 
 another drink for him and then left the house.
 
 XXII 
 
 The Finder 
 
 THERE are hundreds of men walking 
 the streets of London with their eyes 
 fastened on the ground and their thoughts in 
 the same place ; so that things are no sooner 
 lost than they are found. But it is of no use 
 to have sharp eyes if one's thoughts are apt 
 to wander. 
 
 At this common lodging-house I became 
 acquainted with a very strange man, one 
 who could almost make a living by simply 
 walking about from place to place. This 
 man had a small income, and he must have 
 guessed that I was in the same position, as 
 he soon became very friendly. He thought 
 that he could safely approach me in a familiar 
 way without any risk that I would try to 
 borrow from him. I suppose he had watched 
 me, and saw that I had no special time for 
 going out or coming in ; and also that I took 
 
 275
 
 276 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 nothing out with me in the morning, nor 
 returned with anything in the evening, as 
 is the case with men that sell papers or toys. 
 He also saw that my food was bought, not 
 begged, and that I came in as clean as I went 
 out. So he came to the conclusion that I was 
 independent in a small way, the same as he 
 was. 
 
 I had spoken to this man several times, 
 but had not had a long conversation until 
 one morning he came to me with a letter 
 in his hand, which he had found, and which 
 he told me to read. Rather surprised at this 
 confidence, I took the letter and read it. But 
 it was of no consequence whatever, being an 
 ordinary friendly greeting from one woman 
 to another, and whoever lost it would have 
 not had much cause to be sorry. I told my 
 new acquaintance this, and was surprised at 
 his answer. " Whether it is of any value 
 or not," he said, beginning to chuckle, " I 
 intend to make something out of it. You 
 may as well come that way for a walk, and 
 we will return it to the owner." As a rule 
 I took my walks alone, so as to be free to sit 
 on seats and write or go into libraries to read.
 
 THE FINDER 277 
 
 However, on this occasion I decided to go 
 walking with my new friend. 
 
 As we were going through St. James's 
 Park, my new friend made a sudden dart 
 forward and picked up a silver pin. I had 
 already noticed that his eyes were always 
 searching the ground, and I was now sur- 
 prised that he should want my company at 
 all, for he spoke very little and seemed quite 
 indifferent to my voice. 
 
 At last we reached the West End, near 
 Hyde Park, and, having found the letter's 
 address — one of a row of very large houses — 
 he went boldly to the front door and rang 
 the bell. After enquiring for the lady of the 
 house and seeing her, he returned the letter, 
 which she said was of little account. However, 
 she thanked him for his trouble and was about 
 to close the door. But my new friend quickly 
 explained to her that he had thought the 
 letter might have been of great consequence, 
 and that he had walked three miles to return 
 it to its proper owner. Now what else could 
 the lady do, under these circumstances, than 
 to thank him with more feeling and make 
 the poor man a present of money ?
 
 278 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 These things my companion explained to 
 me after he had dehvered the letter. He also 
 said that he had made quite a number of 
 shillings in that way — by returning lost 
 letters, and some that had actually been 
 thrown away. In fact, he confessed with a 
 laugh, that on several occasions he had taken 
 empty envelopes to houses and received 
 money for doing so. " This is only an 
 envelope," a lady would say, smiling ; "I 
 have the letter safe at home." " I didn't 
 know but what a note was inside," my artful 
 friend would answer innocently, " and have 
 walked until I am tired, so as to return it." 
 Whatever a lady might think of this, she 
 could not very well refuse to reward him for 
 his trouble. 
 
 When we were on our way back, after 
 delivering this lost letter, it was not long be- 
 fore he startled me by making another sudden 
 jump, and this time he picked up a silver 
 sixpence. " What a lucky man you are ! " 
 I exclaimed. " I don't beheve that there is 
 one man in this large city that has better 
 eyesight than mine, and yet I never find 
 anything." He was in such a good humour
 
 THE FINDER 279 
 
 now that he became talkative, and that, I 
 suppose, was the reason why he found nothing 
 else. 
 
 When I became more intimate with this 
 man, he called me one day to his locker, 
 which he was in the act of cleaning. There 
 were only three men in the kitchen at the 
 time, and they were sitting at the far end. 
 If there had been the least likelihood of one 
 of these men coming near to see the contents 
 of his locker, it is most certain that he would 
 not have called me. It was then that he 
 began to show me the various things that he 
 had found during his five years in London. 
 And when I saw the things he had, I was 
 astonished, for I believe this man could have 
 made a small living by merely walking about. 
 He had several fountain pens, one gold- 
 mounted, which must have cost thirty or 
 forty shillings. He showed me a gold pencil- 
 case and two silver ones ; also a silver match- 
 box, finely embossed, which still contained 
 the wax matches as it had been found. I 
 saw several purses, all of which had contained 
 money ; and there was a lady's silk parasol, 
 which had been left on a seat in one of the
 
 ago THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 parks. And also a gentleman's costly cane, 
 found in the same way. He had dozens of 
 fine linen handkerchiefs, which had been 
 dropped and, becoming dirty, would be 
 passed by the poorest people ; but which 
 this very careful man had picked up and 
 washed ; fine, beautiful handkerchiefs, well 
 worth picking up and washing. These he 
 had saved, only using the common ones him- 
 self ; for he could not tell what their quality 
 was until they were washed. He showed 
 me several articles of jewelry, such as rings, 
 bracelets and brooches ; and one pendant, 
 which was a silver cross with a Christ cruci- 
 fied in gold, which he had found one Sunday 
 morning in Hyde Park. Even books — 
 popular novels that had been left on the 
 seats ; some of which may not have been 
 forgotten, but read and thrown away — were 
 to be seen in this man's locker. 
 
 When I saw all these dozens and dozens 
 of various articles, I was surprised. " You 
 must find something every time you go out," 
 I said, " to have collected so many things 
 as are here." " Oh, no," he answered at 
 once ; "I often go a whole day without find-
 
 THE FINDER 281 
 
 ing anything of the least value. But there 
 are exceptional days when I am sure to find 
 several things. For instance, after a holiday 
 I go the next morning to some heath or 
 common where a great number of people has 
 been, and I am then almost certain to find 
 something of value, not to mention a number 
 of things of little account, but still worth the 
 trouble of picking up and carrying home. 
 Of course, I am always on the spot as soon 
 as it is daylight, for there are others that do 
 the same." 
 
 This man had stuff that must have cost the 
 owners a hundred pounds and more — things 
 of gold and silver ; things of silk, a fur 
 muffler, and silk handkerchiefs ; briar pipes, 
 gloves, knives, pocket-books and reading 
 books ; purses which it must be remembered 
 had contained money ; and scores of other 
 things of more or less value. For nothing was 
 too small or mean for him — he even picked 
 up the ferrules of umbrellas and walking- 
 sticks. 
 
 I was surprised to hear that a great number 
 of these things had been found in the parks, 
 either having been dropped while walking or
 
 282 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 left by accident on the seats. I was sur- 
 prised at this, because the parks were always 
 full of vagrants. But after a while I con- 
 sidered the great advantage this man had 
 over those poor fellows, being fresh and 
 active ; whereas the poor vagrants would 
 be either lying asleep in the grass or awake 
 but too tired to walk, seeing that they had 
 been walking about sleepless all through the 
 night. 
 
 When I was a very small boy, I had then 
 the only good find of my life. I was walking 
 in the middle of the road, kicking everything 
 I saw, as boys often do. Seeing what seemed 
 to be a small roll of dirty rags tied in a knot, 
 I kicked it, and to my surprise heard some- 
 thing jingle. I at once picked it up, as dirty 
 as it was, and opened it. Then I saw that it 
 was a handkerchief with a large number of 
 white coins large and small, and several little 
 yellow ones. I was soon standing breathless 
 before my grandmother. That good woman 
 lost no time in taking hold of my treasure, 
 in spite of the mud. " Where did you get 
 this ? " she asked in a strange voice. " I 
 found it, grandmother," I answered, be-
 
 THE FINDER 283 
 
 ginning to feel some alarm. " Well, here's a 
 penny for you, and be a good boy," she said ; 
 " but remember, if I ever hear you mention 
 anything about this again, I'll skin you 
 alive ! " In spite of this threat I sulked and 
 blubbered for a long time, for what I wanted 
 was one of the yellow coins. But my grand- 
 mother would not part with a yellow one, and 
 said that they could not be spent in shops, 
 and whoever tried to do that would fall 
 into the hands of a policeman. After a while 
 she lost all patience, and said that if I made 
 another sound she would murder me with a 
 stick, which she held ready in her hand. All 
 this was at that time unaccountable to me, 
 for I had never before seen my grandmother 
 in such a strange mood. For instance, she 
 kept me indoors a prisoner all day, and at 
 other times she was onty too glad to get me 
 out of the house. And yet, in spite of this, 
 she not only petted me with cake, but even 
 went out herself to buy me fruit and sweets. 
 And while her left hand would be giving me 
 sweets, her right hand would be threatening 
 me with a stick. 
 
 Now probably that handkerchief would
 
 284 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 have been lying in the mud for a long time, 
 and be passed by thousands of people, until 
 the wheels of a cart scattered the coins and 
 brought them to hght. But if a man like this, 
 of whom I have spoken, happened to pass 
 that way, he would have kicked the dirty 
 rags, even as a boy would. For he kicked or 
 picked up every common matchbox that 
 came under his notice, to see if it was entirely 
 empty. 
 
 What a strange man he was, for he never 
 offered any of these things for sale, but kept 
 them in his locker, and occasionally took 
 pleasure in looking them over, taking great 
 care that no other lodger was near enough to 
 see them. His small income was enough to 
 keep him, and, being indifferent to personal 
 appearance, he therefore had little need of 
 extra money. In fact, he purposely kept him- 
 self looking like the commonest beggar, so 
 that people would take less notice when they 
 saw him stooping to pick things up. 
 
 I only accompanied him twice on his 
 rambles, for I felt ashamed to see him con- 
 tinually stooping, and people looking at him 
 all the time. In Regent Street he stooped so
 
 THE FINDER 285 
 
 suddenly to pick up a halfpenny, that a very 
 fine lady who was walking close behind fell 
 across his back. This incident was quite 
 enough for me, and I swore to myself that I 
 would never go out with him again, and I 
 kept my word. 
 
 I have often wondered at such a man as 
 this, as to what kind of mind he had. He 
 would have no thoughts of either the future 
 or the past, for his mind must be concen- 
 trated on the present moment. If he in- 
 dulged in the least inclination to dream, he 
 could not be a successful finder. He would 
 see no beauty in the trees — they would only 
 be obstacles, like houses. He would hear no 
 birds, and never turn his head to see what 
 made children laugh. His eyes would not 
 waste one second on a child's golden hair, for 
 fear they would miss a brass pin on the 
 ground.
 
 XXIII 
 
 The End 
 
 I OUGHT not to finish these adventures 
 without mentioning one strange girl 
 that I met one day near the " Elephant and 
 Castle " public-house. She was such an ex- 
 ception that I don't believe there was another 
 courtesan like her in all London, big as 
 that city is. I happened to be standing at 
 a corner, when I had my attention drawn to 
 a fine tall girl dressed in black, who was 
 standing Uke a statue on the opposite side of 
 the road. For a moment or two I thought she 
 was a respectable girl waiting for a bus to 
 take her home, or somewhere else. But when 
 I looked around and saw several other men 
 eyeing her with the same curiosity, I came 
 to the conclusion that she was a courtesan, 
 whose face was sUghtly known to them. 
 Being very curious to look close into her face, 
 I crossed the road, going towards her when 
 
 286
 
 THE END 287 
 
 her eyes happened to be turned another way. 
 But just as I got near her she turned her 
 head and, catching my eye, nodded and 
 smiled. Of course I could do no other than 
 raise my hat, but I did not stop. However, 
 I had not gone ten steps when she was at 
 my side, asking me if I wanted her company. 
 For a moment or two I stood perplexed, not 
 knowing what to say or do. At last I said — 
 " Will you come across the road and have a 
 drink and a chat ? " " Yes, thank you," 
 she answered. With this understanding we 
 crossed the road and entered the best bar 
 of the " Elephant and Castle," for this girl 
 appeared respectable enough to take her 
 place anywhere. When she was seated and 
 we began to talk, I was not deceived in my 
 first impression, for her voice was gentle, 
 her manners quiet, and her conversation like 
 that of a fine lady. 
 
 After we had had one drink, I pressed her 
 to have more, but she firmly declined, saying, 
 " I drink very little, no more than I can 
 help. I have not accepted your invitation for 
 the sake of the drink, but in the belief that 
 you will now come to my room." This was
 
 288 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 quite new, for, as a rule, these kind of women 
 will drink as long as a man cares to pay for 
 it. Being curious to see what kind of a place 
 this interesting girl lived in, I accompanied 
 her at once, for she lived in a side street that 
 was only a short distance down the Old Kent 
 Road. She told me that she was her own 
 landlady, and only one other girl lived in the 
 house, to whom she had let a room. 
 
 In a few moments we came to the house, 
 which was very small and stood on a corner. 
 This position was very convenient for her, 
 seeing that she could use either the front or 
 the side door at her discretion. On this 
 occasion she turned the corner and used the 
 side door, for several people happened to be 
 coming up behind us. Not that it mattered 
 much, for no one could tell but what we were 
 man and wife. But it pleased her to be as 
 careful as possible not to get too well 
 known. 
 
 When I entered this girl's room and looked 
 around it, I was amazed, for I saw books in 
 every place. There was one book lying open 
 on a small table near the window, which, no 
 doubt, she had been reading that day. I
 
 THE END 289 
 
 picked it up, being curious to know what it 
 was, and found that it was an old copy of 
 Burns. " Are you fond of reading ? " she 
 asked, seeing what I had done. " Yes," I 
 answered shortly, for fear I would forget 
 myself and tell her something that would 
 make her inquisitive. "So am I," she said ; 
 " I am continually buying second-hand books. 
 This copy of Burns was bought yesterday, 
 and all I paid for it was threepence. In 
 fact, very few of the books you see cost me 
 more than fourpence, for they are all old and 
 second-hand. I spend nearly all my time, 
 when I am alone, in reading these fine works, 
 instead of drinking in public-houses with 
 other girls of my class. I go with as few men 
 as I can possibly help. In buying and reading 
 these books, I not only cultivate my mind, 
 but also take better care of my body, which 
 must be plain to you." 
 
 I was quite surprised at meeting a girl of 
 this kind, and respected her as much as 
 though she had been pure. When I looked 
 at her books, I saw that they were nearly 
 all classics and mostly poetry. 
 
 I was very curious to know if she knew 
 
 u
 
 290 THE TRUE TRAVELLER 
 
 anything about the work of Uving authors, so 
 I mentioned a few names, asking if she had 
 read certain books by them. Although she 
 had not, she not only knew the authors' 
 names well, but also knew the names of their 
 books and the nature of them, for she was a 
 great reader of literary gossip and reviews. 
 I asked her if she had ever heard of a certain 
 book by a certain living author. " Yes," 
 she answered, " I have heard about it, and 
 have read several small poems by the same 
 author when I have been reading magazines 
 in a free library." I was very pleased to 
 hear this, and began to wonder whether I 
 should tell her that I was the author of that 
 book and those poems, or not. I was just on 
 the point of giving way to that vanity when 
 a sudden idea made me alter my mind. It 
 occurred to me that she would naturally 
 think that such a famous man must have 
 plenty of money, and I did not want her to 
 make a mistake of that kind, which would 
 have caused her cruel disappointment. How- 
 ever, before I left her I gave her enough 
 money to allow her to remain with her books 
 for two or three days, without being driven
 
 THE END 291 
 
 by poverty to seek another strange man. She 
 appeared to be quite surprised at this 
 generosity, but I did not tell her anything 
 about myself.
 
 PHINTED BY 
 
 WILLIAM BREHDON AND SON LTD. 
 
 I'l YMOUTH
 
 Some Press Opinions. 
 
 Beggars 
 
 By W. H. DAVIES 
 
 "It is unexpectedly good. A book of extraordinary talent. It 
 records extraordinary experiences in an inimitable style, a style that 
 cannot be excelled for purity and simplicity. He discriminates in an 
 acute and humorous way. He brings an entirely new and personal 
 light to bear upon life. His powers of reflection and criticism have 
 increased, and we welcome them, not only because they have made 
 this book a more various and subtle one than the ' Autobiography,' 
 but because they imply growth, and promise other books." 
 
 Morning Post. 
 
 " Mr. Davies's revelations certainly are most amusing." 
 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 "There has arisen in our day the real vagabond, whose books will 
 live in spite of all criticisms of their form. ' Beggars ' is not an epic 
 narrative like the 'Autobiography,' but it is, unconsciously, a far more 
 enlightening human document. In it stands revealed the soul of what 
 the tramp calls 'The True Traveller.' This astonishing book tells a 
 thousand curious facts. It deserves wide reading among thoughtful 
 persons ; it is one of the most remarkable books ever written." 
 
 Morning Leader. 
 
 " ' Beggars' is a curious and sympathetic study of begging by a 
 successful practitioner of that art. Written in an excellent style. His 
 reminiscences are vivid, and gain by a quaint simplicity which is 
 delightful." — Athenautn. 
 
 "This book contains an interesting and amusing account of the 
 professional mendicant. A racy and, let us hope, a fairly accurate 
 account of the beggar of to-day." — Standard. 
 
 " Mr. Davies follows up his 'Autobiography' with actual experiences 
 as a professional beggar. There is no pretence about it. "— Daily News. 
 
 " The book is thoroughly entertaining. Humour, human sympathy, 
 and a perfectly individual outlook combine to make a book which is 
 in some sort a human document." — World.
 
 SOME PRESS OPimO'SS—Cofitmuecf. 
 
 "An amazingly frank and quietly realistic record. He is not a 
 man of education, but the simplicity, the absolute naturalness, and 
 easy imaginative forcefulness of his prose are qualities in which no 
 stylist, however accomplished, could hope to outrival him. Terse 
 and vividly picturesque English. Surprising and oddly interesting. 
 Mr. Davies has a shrewd sense of humour and a subtle feeling for the 
 inner meaning of words, and has produced in ' Beggars ' a frank 
 and fascinating chronicle that will rank with the best picaresque 
 literature in the language." — Bookman. 
 
 "Mr. Davies speaks with an intimate knowledge of his subject. 
 He has had a wide and varied experience, and it is a positive pleasure 
 to have a presentment of the case from the beggar's point of view." 
 
 Glasgow Herald. 
 
 " Dealing picturesquely and vividly with many phases of a beggar's 
 life and experiences, the book provides entertaining reading, and is 
 written in pleasing and clever style." — Scotsman. 
 
 •"Beggars' is remarkable in many ways. The life is pictured in 
 bright and cheerful colours. The author is possessed of a refreshing 
 candour. ' Darky,' ' Cinders,' ' Dodger,' ' Harry the Whistler,' 
 'Gentleman Bill,' make strange but entertaining company." 
 
 Evening News. 
 
 "His prose is simple and innocent. A brilliant mind. On the 
 ways of beggars he is invariably entertaining." — Country Life. 
 
 "Every subject he touches becomes alive and interesting. The 
 irresponsible poetry of the life breaks through the record of grim 
 things. This most engrossing x&q.oxA."''— Westminster Gazette. 
 
 "Mr. Davies has to be credited again with a unique achievement. 
 There is nothing quite like this book of his. The volume abounds in 
 good stories. It has a simple, unaffected candour hard to parallel 
 in contemporary literature." — Birmingham Post. 
 
 " Mr. Davies gives us first-hand information, and his well-written 
 book will become a classic on the subject." — /ris/i Times. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 DUCKWORTH & CO., 
 
 3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN
 
 Some Press Opinions. 
 
 A Weak Woman 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 By W. H. DAVIES 
 
 " ' A Weak Woman ' is most convincing. Its effectiveness is won 
 through sincerity. It earns praise for its transparent lucidity of style, 
 directness of language, and the sympathetic pictures it gives of men 
 and women." — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 " It is impossible to read what Mr. Davies writes without thinking 
 of the great masters of the style of simple narrative, of Swift and of 
 Bunyan. By all the canons of fiction, his book belongs to a higher 
 class than the majority of novels that are published." — Morning Post. 
 
 " Mr. Davies is certainly a most interesting writer. Quite unlike 
 present-day fiction, and very refreshing. He writes in a way to 
 stimulate the appetite of the most jaded reader, and his work is full 
 of the humanity which appe.ils to all classes of readers. He strikes a 
 new and sincere note. There is an absence of artificiality, and a 
 style all through which raises the book to a very high level." 
 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 
 "It is not easy to induce cultivated people to take as much interest 
 in the literature of the present as they profess to take in the literature 
 of the past. Were they a little more far-sighted they would not let 
 slip an opportunity of securing a ' first edition ' of ' A Weak 
 Woman.' For here we have a book of a kind that we shall scarcely 
 get from any other living author. It has the quiet, incisive vigour of 
 a fresh, unspoilt mind, almost childish in its simplicity, yet wise with 
 much experience of poor and simple men. " — Daily News.
 
 SOME PRESS 0?imO^S—Conhnued. 
 
 " Mr. Davies's prose and verse will live in our literature by virtue of 
 the simplicity, directness, and purity of his style. Every comment 
 our author makes is buttressed on a fact. Delicious in its flavour. 
 Startlingly lucid. Admirable in its clarity. "— 7".4(! Nation. 
 
 "The book has the flavour and richness of the best eighteenth- 
 century prose. The merit of the book is the quiet and poignant 
 protest it offers against the lack of proportion and the self-conscious- 
 ness of most of the literature of the day." — Truth. 
 
 " Mr. Davies has earned for himself a distinct place. As regards 
 style and mental viewpoint he stands out quite distinctly from all his 
 contemporaries, and he is a writer whom no lover of good writing can 
 afford to leave unread." — Scotsman. 
 
 " We are impressed by the charm and pathos and realism of the 
 story. It marks its writer out for a career in fiction." — Outlook. 
 
 *' There is about Mr. Davies's prose much of the charm that has 
 made his poetry justly famous. That innate and admirable simplicity 
 which makes Mr. Davies a great writer." — English Review. 
 
 " There is a freshness and originality in the point of view which 
 gives this book a character of its own." — Western Morning News. 
 
 " Mr. Davies is a living personality, and his ' Autobiography ' and 
 ' Beggars ' show that he has a remarkable gift for prose writing. He 
 is not a literary man who has played at tramps, but a real tramp who 
 is also a real poet. He maintains the curious purity and innocence 
 of style which makes every sentence he writes interesting. ' A Weak 
 Woman ' can be heartily recommended to all who are interested in 
 modern literature or in social questions, for it contains a great deal of 
 real experience truly and feelingly expressed. One would not write 
 about it so critically were it the work of a lesser man." 
 
 Contemporary Review. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 DUCKWORTH & CO., 
 
 3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN
 
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