no particular need of top boots, oilskins, and many other things
needed by the man of the deep sea. Indeed, the latter has to even
supply himself with a knife, fork, and spoon. There is no law that
a man must have a bag of clothes, for there is no need of them. He
is allowed to ship as he stands, no matter whether he is clad like
a sailor or a farmer, or is in rags like an unsuccessful beggar.
As far as appearances are concerned, a great number of these
fresh-water sailors end the season as they began it. Some of them
look far worse, for they may have had good clothes and boots when
navigation began, and have worn them all the summer and have not
bought others. Therefore, when they are paid for their last trip, and
spend the money foolishly, they are ill-shod and shabbily dressed.
The fresh-water sailors are not nearly so illiterate as salt-water
men, because they are so often on shore in large towns and cities.
A popular song would not be more than three or four days old before
they were on shore to hear it. They do not return, after one voyage,
to be surprised that the town has built a large new dock since they
left, or doubled its population, as deep-sea men may do.
I was never, in all my life, seized with so great a desire for work
as when I was in one of these lake towns and haunting the waterside.
When I thought of the good pay, the rich food, and the easy work
to be done, it was as much as I could do to keep from applying for
a ship. In fact I made a special journey to Toronto for that very
purpose, but was petted and spoilt by the many good people in that
town. The first day I arrived I happened to find a green, open space
where I could lie down and take my ease between meals. It did not
take me long to find out that the houses around that green common
were very good, for I had no difficulty at all in begging my first
meal, which was breakfast. After doing this, I returned to the green
common and lay down in the grass. But it was not long before the
children came; so, wanting an active hour, I began to play ball with
them. This exercise gave me a good appetite for dinner, and, when
that hour came, I succeeded with as much ease as at breakfast-time.
It was not long before I was back on the common, where I played
ball with the children all the afternoon. Naturally, I now lost all
inclination for work on the lakes, and even laughed at myself for
ever having had such a thought. But, unfortunately, this life was
too good to last long, for something happened the following day
that not only put an end to my ball-playing, but forced me to leave
the green common. I had gone to a house to seek dinner, and the
door was answered by a man who, to my surprise, frowned at me. This
unkind reception was so unusual on the great American continent that
I made up my mind to demand, after he had refused me some dinner,
an explanation as to why he received me in that way. But there was
no need for me to speak, for the explanation came at once. "Look
here," said he, "do you mean to tell me that you are looking for
work?" "Nothing is more certain," I answered. "What!" he shouted;
"didn't I see you playing ball with the children all day yesterday,
only a few yards from here? Didn't I see you this morning holding
the skipping-rope for some girls?" There was no escape from these
questions, so I began to retreat. Perhaps that was the reason--that
I had not made the least attempt to excuse myself--why he called me
back and invited me indoors. And I must say that his good lady, who
was smiling and laughing all the time, served me with an excellent
dinner. In spite of this, I thought it wise not to be seen again in
that happy green place, for fear that he might draw the attention of
the police to me. So, being deprived of the pleasure of playing ball,
I left Toronto, too down-hearted to seek enjoyment in any other part
of that city, which was well known to be good all over.
I could nearly always be sure of a dollar or two at these lake
towns--Chicago, Cleveland, Buffalo, Toronto, and others--owing to
my acquaintance with so many men. For almost all the cattlemen that
sailed from Baltimore in the winter, worked on the lakes in the
summer. They left Baltimore a week or two before navigation began
on the lakes, and as soon as it stopped they returned to work as
cattlemen between America and Europe. As there were scores of these
cattlemen, and I not only knew them all, but was liked, it was to my
advantage to make lake towns my haunts. Not one of them ever insulted
me with a hint that I should do as he did--work for my money. The
reason of this is that they all considered it their duty to assist
me, for I had often assisted them in other ways. For instance, when
they came back one by one and in twos and threes from the lakes, they
were always loth to start begging again in Baltimore, which they
must either do or starve. To make things worse, they would probably
have to wait a week or two before they could get a chance to sail
with cattle, for at this time the office would be full of men. Now,
as I was always back before them, they could rely on me for a little
assistance, for I would beg extra on their account. But for all that,
the money I got from them was more of a curse than a blessing, for
the reason that it often kept me several days in idleness; and, after
living in lazy respectability for three or four days, I always found
it hard to start again to earn my living as a beggar.
It seems a mystery that these inland lakes should be sometimes
visited by such terrific storms. One winter, when I was in Chicago, I
went down to the waterside to see a ship in its last extremity. When
I got there I saw thousands of helpless people, watching a vessel
sinking before their eyes, no one being able to go to its assistance
in small boats. We could expect to see this happen on the wild
sea-coast, but this was an inland lake, and here was a city of more
than a million inhabitants. It is more to be wondered at by men who
have seen that beautiful lake almost without a ripple in summer-time.
X
The Happy Life
It is certainly a mystery how man got into this tangle, having to
conform to the rules of civilization--up in the morning at a certain
hour, and to bed at a certain time at night, with certain limited
intervals for meals; in fact a very slave to these conditions, and
so often without power of being otherwise. If he breaks his fetters
by indulging in more sleep, or prolonging his meals, he will starve,
for nuts are not now free for the picking, and fruits are not now the
free gift of Nature; for she herself is made the servant of landlords
who are tyrannical over their rights. It is only the small boys who
occasionally defy such laws by robbing an orchard and putting to
shame their big, cowardly fathers.
When I consider what pleasure it gives me to lie abed in the mornings
at my own sweet will, I cannot help but feel pity for the great
majority who must needs rise to answer the demands of civilization.
Of course, I could not myself be so independent if I were not
contented with very little, and did not prefer freedom to fine
clothes and furniture and the luxuries of food.
We know very well that the one happy hour in the week for a man of
business is when he wakes on a Sabbath morn, or a holiday, at his
usual time to rise, and finds, O joy! that he is privileged to lie in
bed, a free and a happy man.
What a strange contrast there is between the man who lives in a
small house with just enough means, and no more, to keep him in idle
content, and the man who, to keep up a position, has a large house
with several servants, and worries himself night and day in business
to keep things standing! What a wise man is the former, and what a
poor fool is the latter! Position! What is it? It is to be pestered
by invitations to other people's houses, and to be worried again in
returning those invitations. How foolish is that business man, that
he does not sell out and retire to a small country cottage, with
his little income of a pound or twenty-five shillings a week, where
he could eat, sleep, and read in peace, and walk abroad admiring
Nature. Thousands of business men could do this, and would, if they
were wise enough to see what an empty thing position is.
There are not many men in this world who appreciate more than I do
that precious gift called sleep. When I wake in the morning and look
at my watch, it may be seven o'clock. Then I question myself--"Shall
I get up? If I do, what for? No, gentle Sleep, one more hour with
thee." Then I sleep again and wake the second time, and ask this
question again--"Shall I get up?" What with yawning and stretching
it usually takes a quarter of an hour to answer, which makes the
time quarter past eight. Then I say to myself, "I will count fifty
before I get up." This I begin to do, very slowly; but when I have
done I usually make the fifty a hundred. This dallying with time is
very pleasant. Sometimes I return to bed after I have got up, and
have even undressed for that purpose. To make a candid confession, I
have--not often--got up, dressed, and then returned to bed with my
clothes on, so as to enjoy another nap and be at no pains to dress
again.
I remember making one trip on a cattle-boat, and on the return voyage
to Baltimore there was no work to be done, we cattlemen being then
counted as passengers. The nearest approach to work of any kind was
that two men were commissioned each day to fetch food from the galley
and to sweep the forecastle--the latter duty not to be strictly
enforced. Now, it happened that there were fifteen cattlemen, so
that one man would be exempt from even such petty duties as these.
We therefore cast lots, and the laziest man was fortunate to win. It
was Baldy, who, on hearing the decision, crept back into his bunk
and remained there for the rest of the voyage. When the meals came,
he sat up and requested some kind hand to pass him his food, and,
after returning the empty dishes to the same kind hand, settled down
for another sleep. One night the ship, being light, rolled so much
that we were all thrown out of our bunks, all except Baldy. That same
night we rushed on deck, cattlemen, sailors, and firemen, for the
coal-bunkers had been broken in by the waves, and coal filled the
galley, and the cattle-pens were smashed and taken to sea, and crash
followed crash until we thought our end had come--and yet Baldy,
whatever his feelings were, never left his bunk.
When we arrived at Baltimore we were all, as usual, without money.
On Baldy being roused and told we were about to go ashore, he began
slowly to rise, but it was only after making several attempts that
he succeeded in standing on his feet. My heart went out in pity for
the poor fellow, for it was as much as three of us could do to get
him up the forecastle steps. It was with great difficulty that he
passed the doctor, for that gentleman happened to see him totter,
and he had an idea that Baldy and, in fact, all the crew should be
quarantined; but on receiving an explanation that Baldy's legs were
weak through inactivity, he allowed us to go ashore. The distance
to the cattlemen's office was over a mile, and poor Baldy could not
possibly walk that distance, and, as I have said, we were all without
money. But as luck would have it, a gentleman saw Baldy's condition
and gave him five cents to pay car fare, so we helped the poor fellow
into the car, which would take him right to the door of the office.
Honestly, if I had not been cursed with ambition to excel in
literature, I would have remained a beggar to the end of my days;
to winter in such towns as Baltimore, and spend my summer months in
travelling through the green country, with short stops here and there
in cities and large towns.
What a life it is! To study faces and the strange humours of
different people. Yes, when I was about to call at a house for my
dinner, the Baltimore Kid suddenly clutched my shoulders, and said
impressively: "Whatever you do, do not address that woman as Lady,
but call her Madam, or Mrs." Just to humour the Kid, for I thought
such advice was ridiculous, I addressed the lady as Madam, and
explained my needs. She motioned me to a small, wooden outhouse,
which I entered, and seeing a chair and a table, sat down. In about
two minutes the lady reappeared, carrying a hot dinner, for which I
stood, as became a gentleman, and thanked her, saying: "I thank you,
Madam," but was almost on the point of saying "lady." After having
had dinner, I went to the back door and knocked, to thank her for
her kindness. "You are quite welcome," she said; "the only people I
refuse are those who say 'lady,' for I have cause to believe that
such people are professional beggars." You see, by this instance,
how one little word can assist or spoil a man in his profession.
The Baltimore Kid was one of the keenest beggars in America. The
sight or sound of money put the very devil in him. If he heard
coins rattling in the pockets of a passer-by, he would follow that
person side by side, up one street and down another until he had
succeeded in talking the man out of a coin. If he saw a lady open
her purse, he was at once at her side, and explaining his position.
He boasted that he had begged the President, when the latter was
visiting his paternal home. The Kid had intended to beg the house
for clothes, but, seeing the President alone in the garden, quickly
altered his mind. He claimed to have then talked the gentleman
out of a five-dollar bill. Whether this story was true or not, I
cannot say, but I am certain of one thing--that it was only the
want of opportunity that would keep it from being attempted. The
pomp and splendour of Solomon's throne would not have daunted the
Baltimore Kid, if he saw the way clear of stern guards and meddlesome
attendants. Many of the great capitalists of America, and many
Europeans of title, had succumbed to the Kid's voice. Yes, he has
often related to me how easy he found the Grand Duke of Gorgonzola,
and how long it took to convince Tomkins the millionaire butcher.
XI
Boy Desperadoes
The danger of our slums is not caused so much by men as by boys;
and some of the latter are so young that they have not yet taken to
drink, although they have smoked cigarettes for years. These half
boys and half men are far more dangerous than full-grown bullies. The
reason is that they do not think of the consequences, and they work
themselves into an hysterical passion that often results in brutal
murder. One time I was in a small town in America when a young outlaw
of eighteen years was being tried for killing about half a dozen
men, and half killing a number of others, all in his short career.
No doubt this sounds like very high brutal courage, but the truth
of the matter is that it was the lowest cowardice. He was too young
to have that cool courage of a man who bids another to stand and
deliver and, after committing robbery, walks away without more ado.
This boy, full of fear, no sooner saw the motion of another than he
pulled the trigger, in fear of his own life. I don't suppose that
there was ever a man outlaw in America that was so dangerous as this
youth. Again, men are robbers for gain, and nothing else; but when a
number of these half boys and half men are together, they want sport
and romance as well. They would not be satisfied with robbing a man,
but would like to show their power after. What makes these youths so
dangerous is that they obey the first impulse, which, more often than
not, is a cruel one; and the cruelty increases with their strength of
number.
One time I saw a dozen boys on the levee in St. Louis hold up and
rob every man they came to. They not only did this, but, as usual
with them, started to beat the man after, kicking and punching him,
until he had to run for his life. This happened in broad daylight;
but they took care, as hysterical as they were, not to interfere with
more than two men at a time, in spite of their number. These boys
were quite dangerous, with revolvers, razors, knives, and clubs; and
they uttered the most fearful oaths, and yelled like savages. No
doubt, if they had met a stubborn man, who refused to either escape
or humour them, they would have killed him. Now, what could a man do
against these blind, desperate young bullies? If he had a revolver,
he could hold back a dozen men by threatening to shoot the first man
that advanced, and each man would have had enough sense to see the
folly of risking his life. But these youths would have rushed on in
their blind passion, and whether you shot one or not, you could not
escape being half killed or killed by the others. These half boys and
half men have no idea of fair play; if a man goes down, they will
take good care that he does not rise again to renew the battle, for
they will kick him into unconsciousness.
It is these young bullies, and not grown men, that make the slums of
London and other large cities so dangerous. They feel the strength
of the coming man, and they are eager to try it. So, when they see a
man drunk, and scarcely capable of looking after himself, they begin
to jibe him. The poor fool, courageous in drink, and seeing that they
are no more than boys, stops to abuse them. It is then that one of
them steps forward and sometimes, to disguise his intention, holds
out the hand of friendship, and the poor drunkard receives a blow in
the face instead. Of course, this exasperates him, and he attacks
them all. If it is day, the young bullies escape laughing, but if
it is night, and the place quiet, they will all try their strength
on him, and probably leave him insensible in the gutter. If they
cannot trip a man or knock him down, they kick or use the buckles of
belts, and they give him great cause to remember the occasion. Nearly
all these young bullies wear strong leather belts with heavy solid
buckles, and they know well how to use them.
Any common lodging-house that harbours a gang of five or six of these
half boys and half men is a very dangerous place in which to live. If
there is a full-grown bully there, he will be very cautious not to
offend any of these, however he may try to intimidate other lodgers.
I left one lodging-house, after staying there a week, because of
three of these young ruffians, who seemed to do as they liked. At
that house there was a big bully, a man six feet in height and heavy
in build. This big fellow was continually grumbling and threatening
the old lodgers, but never interfered with the younger ones,
although they often laughed at him in mockery. But one day, when he
was cooking at the fire, one of these young ruffians, accidentally it
seemed, pushed him, and the big bully turned with his usual oath and
uplifted hand. Now, no doubt, if the kitchen had been empty, he would
have pretended to be satisfied with the young ruffian's sneering
apology, but seeing so many witnesses, he thought it was his duty to
show what he was, so he gave the youngster a slap in the face. The
latter did not attempt to retaliate, for he had not the assistance of
his friends. No doubt he told them of it that night, when they were
all together. A few mornings after this the big bully was found dead
in bed; his death being caused by a blow in the back of the head,
received in a fall. It seemed that he had had enough strength to
walk to the lodging-house and get into bed, and had died afterward.
There were several beds in that room, but none of the other lodgers
had heard anything unusual in the night, although they saw that the
man staggered into the room. There can be no doubt but what he was
drunk, but drunken men do not often fall down and deal themselves
death-blows--they only collapse. My opinion is that these young
ruffians had waylaid him away from the house, and seeing that he was
drunk, helped him to his fall. These young bullies never forgive, and
never forget. If one is threatened when he is without the support of
others, he will not rest satisfied until he gets their help and takes
vengeance.
What makes full-grown men so much afraid of these half boys and half
men is their entire recklessness. They will use knife, poker, fork,
or anything that is near their hands. One day I saw one of these
young bullies deliberately poke an old man's eye out. The man was
well known to be very quiet and not at all ill-tempered; and when he
asked that the table should not be shaken because of his tea--this
boy sprang to his feet and, without a word, poked the old man's eye
out. A cruel, unfeeling action of this kind would never enter the
mind of a full-grown man, however great a bully he might be; only an
impulsive, irresponsible youth of this kind would do such a deed.
In some lodging-houses the manager will not let beds to more than
two of these half boys and half men, for he knows from experience
the trouble they make; and that old and quiet lodgers will fear them
so much that they will go elsewhere. For these young bullies have no
sympathy with age or affliction, and it would not be well for a blind
man to expect them to use restraint and humour him in everything.
They feel the strength of manhood coming on them, and they do not
know what to do with it. All these lads are out of steady employment
and doing a few odd jobs often too light for them, and their growing
strength is not getting sufficient use. So, when they are standing
at street corners, they are always eager for action, and the man
that takes notice of their insults or missiles, will most likely
soon be in a pitiful state. It is these sober young bullies that
smoke cigarettes at street corners, and not full-grown bullies in
public houses, that a stranger has to fear. The latter make enough
noise, when they are going home at night, singing or fighting among
themselves, but they seldom interfere with strangers. But the young
bullies, that are neither boys nor men, allow their animal spirits
full play, and are only too eager to interfere with anyone.
XII
American and English Beggars
A man that has camped out much in the open air must always after be
on the look-out for places suitable for camps. So whenever I cross
over a country bridge, under which runs a narrow stream, I often
stand and look along the stream's banks in quest of a shady tree to
sit out of the sun, happy to know that I can seek shelter under the
bridge in case of rain. Yes, there is plenty of dry wood for cooking
purposes, and fresh water in a delightful state of activity, and
the bridge to be my shelter in a storm--such is an ideal spot for a
camp. If I find this place in England there will be seen a sign that
trespassers will be prosecuted, and for that reason the spot remains,
and will remain, in its virgin state, untrodden by the foot of man.
But if I am in America I shall not see that sign, and therefore at
once take possession, and I know well that I shall find embers of
past fires, and a quiet search in the adjoining bush will bring to
light the rude cooking utensils used by former occupants.
Alas for the strict regulations that govern this overcrowded land of
ours! If I have a houseboat I cannot move it without first apprising
the river commissioners and having their consent to do so. If I use
a bit of wild woodland, untilled, and without fruit, cattle, or any
other money-making stock, I am ordered to put out my fire by a man
who can produce papers to show his authority. Our liberties extend so
far, and no farther, and we are not free to periodically enjoy the
sweet open-air life of our ancestors. A free country indeed! Even
if I own a cottage, with a piece of land, and have my title deeds
to show for it, the sporting gentry can over-run it after a fox.
And, although compensation can be claimed for damage done to a field
of turnips, I would be laughed at for a mad eccentric if I asked
compensation for the rude trampling of my garden flowers. But things
are different in America, and, for that matter, in all new countries.
The woods belong to all comers and all that is found therein--sunny
glades and shady trees, birds, springs, flowers, and squirrels.
No stranger to demand by what authority I camp there; and any
respectable stranger that chanced to come near would no more think
of entering my camp without an invitation than he would of entering
my town house. For in America it is customary for all classes of
families to forsake their homes for a few days in the summer and camp
out, sometimes only on the outskirts of the town and within easy
distance of their homes. These outings cost little, are healthy, and
the whole family are together; and it only requires care that the
smallest and youngest does not roll into the rill and get drowned--a
rill that in certain parts is often as much as three inches deep.