A TRAMP'S SUMMER VACATION
We were determined to be in the fashion, and to visit the various
delightful watering places on Long Island Sound. Of course it would be
necessary to combine business with pleasure, and pursue our calling as
beggars. With the exception of begging our food, which would not be
difficult, seeing that the boarding houses were full, and that large
quantities of good stuff were being made, there was no reason why we
should not get as much enjoyment out of life as the summer visitors.
We would share with them the same sun and breeze; we could dip in the
surf at our own pleasure, and during the heat of the day we could
stretch our limbs in the green shade, or in the shadow of some large
rock that overlooked the Sound. However we could no longer stand the
sultry heat of New York, where we had been for several days, during
which time we had been groaning and gasping for air. So I and Brum
started out of the City, on the way towards Hartford, Connecticut,
with the intention of walking no more than six miles a day along the
sea coast. What a glorious time we had; the people catered for us as
though we were the only tramps in the whole world, and as if they
considered it providential that we should call at their houses for
assistance. The usual order of things changed considerably.
Cake--which we had hitherto considered as a luxury--became at this
time our common food, and we were at last compelled to install plain
bread and butter as the luxury, preferring it before the finest
sponge-cake flavoured with spices and eggs. Fresh water springs were
numerous, gushing joyously out of the rocks, or lying quiet in shady
nooks; and there was many a tramps' camp, with tin cans ready to hand,
where we could make our coffee and consume the contents of paper bags.
This part of the country was also exceptionally good for clothes.
Summer boarders often left clothes behind, and of what use were they
to the landladies, for no rag-and-bone man ever called at their
houses. The truth of the matter was that in less than a week I was
well dressed from head to foot, all of these things being voluntary
offerings, when in quest of eatables. Brum, of course, had fared
likewise, but still retained the same pair of dungarees, which he
swore he would not discard except at the instance of a brand new pair
of tweeds. It was this pair of working man's trousers which had caused
a most regrettable mistake. We had just finished begging at one of
these small watering-places and, loaded with booty, were on our way in
the direction of the camp which, Brum informed me, was half a mile
north of the town. When we reached this camp we found it occupied by
one man, who had just then made his coffee and was about to eat. On
which Brum asked this man's permission to use his fire, which would
save us the trouble of making one of our own. The stranger gave a
reluctant consent, and at the same time moved some distance away, as
though he did not wish further intimacy. While we were gathering wood
and filling our cans at the spring, I could not help but see this
stranger glaring hatefully at my companion's trousers, and expected
every moment to hear some insulting remark. At last we were ready and
Brum proceeded to unload himself. He had eight or nine parcels of food
distributed about his clothes, but in such a way that no one could be
the wiser. It was then that I noted a change come over the stranger's
face, who seeing the parcels, seemed to be smitten with remorse. In
another moment he was on his feet and coming towards us, said
impulsively--"Excuse me, boys, for not giving you a more hearty
welcome, but really--"glancing again at my companion's trousers--"I
thought you were working men, but I now see that you are true
beggars." Brum laughed at this, and mentioned that others had also
been deceived. He explained that the said trousers had been given him
against his wish, but on seeing that they were good, and were likely
to outlast several pairs of cloth, he had resolved to stick to them
for another month or two. "I regret having had such an opinion of
you," said the stranger, in a choking voice, "and trust, boys, that
you will forgive me." Thus ended in a friendly spirit what promised at
first to become very unpleasant.
This stranger turned out to be New Haven Baldy. We had never had the
pleasure of meeting him before, but had often heard of him. He had a
great reputation in the State of Connecticut, which he never
left--except for an annual trip through Massachusetts to the city of
Boston. There was not one good house in the former State that was not
known to Baldy. This was put to the test in our presence, that very
day. A man came to the camp who, poor fellow, claimed to be a
hard-working man. He had lost his job and had been robbed of his
savings, now being forced to walk home to Meriden. He had never begged
in his life, and had now been without food for two days, and was
almost too weak to continue his journey. "Yes," said Baldy, "and when
you are settled at home, and the wrinkles are taken out of you, what
sympathy will you have with us? You will tell us to go and work for
our living, the same as yourself." The poor fellow protested, saying
that he had never known his mother to refuse any man food. At this
Baldy pricked up his ears and enquired of the stranger his mother's
address. On hearing the name of the street Baldy at once proceeded to
describe the one--and only one--good house to be found there: "That
is our house," said the stranger. Baldy, not yet convinced, asked for
a description of the old lady and her husband. This was given, to
Baldy's satisfaction. "Well," said he, "I have had many a meal at your
house, and you shall now have one with me." Saying which he gave the
stranger a parcel which, being spread on the grass, was seen to
contain several meat sandwiches and a number of small cakes. After
eating these, and others from Brum, the stranger left, saying that he
would not again feel hungry until he reached home.
After the stranger had gone Baldy laughed immoderately. "That man's
father," said he, "was a railroad man, who became boss, and at last
retired on a comfortable little sum. In the kitchen, where the old
people have often fed me, the old man has hung on the wall the shovel
which he had used in his early days. There it is to be seen tasselled
and kept shining bright, and treated reverently as a family heirloom.
How I have laughed," continued Baldy, "to see that shovel, to think
what a simple old fellow he must be to take a pride in showing how he
toiled in his early life. Every time I go there the old man points at
the shovel with pride, and I have as much as I can do to keep a calm
face in listening to its history. But in spite of all that the old man
is a good sort, and I am glad to have been able to assist his son."
Alas, what a disastrous end was ours! When we reached the town of New
Haven, we began to beg from passersby in the open streets and in less
than an hour were in jail. On being brought up next morning before the
judge, we were each sentenced to thirty days. But what hurt our
feelings most was the personal comment of the judge--that we were two
brawny scoundrels who would not work if we had the chance. However
true this might be as applied to us in a moral sense, it certainly was
not a literal fact, for we were both small men. People who, not seeing
us, would read this remark in the local paper, would be misled as to
our personal appearance. I am doubtful whether any Judge is justified
in using such a term. At any rate, thirty days had to be served.
We were in a far better position than an Italian who was waiting to be
tried for murder, and whose cell was not far distant from ours.
At this jail we had to perform the light labour of caning chairs, and
were well treated in the way of food and sleeping accommodation and,
in addition, received a liberal supply of chewing tobacco.
Being interested in the Italian, the first thing we did on regaining
our liberty was to enquire as to his fate. We were told that he had
received a life sentence; or, as our alien informant strangely
expressed it--"Antonia, he didn't get some of de time, but he got all
of de time."
Thus what promised to be a summer's outing full of enjoyment, came to
a disastrous close sooner than we expected. And, when we were again
free, the summer season was practically over, the visitors were
gradually leaving for their town houses; which meant that our
treatment at the boarding houses would become colder and colder in
accordance with the number of boarders.
At this time I accepted employment as a woodchopper, but unfortunately
the work did not last; and just as I began to feel the inclination for
this more respectable life, I was discharged, much to Brum's delight,
who was apparently disgusted with this new innovation called work, and
could not understand any man's desire for it.