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III

Daring Beggars

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American beggars knock boldly at doors like kings' messengers. An imposing mansion with marble pillars is a challenge to them, and they dance up its steps and press the button of an electric bell with a violence that no familiar friends of the house would dare use; but an English beggar almost sinks into the earth when his ears receive the report of his timid hand. In fact, except in very rare instances, where a large house has been approached and—for a wonder—found good, and has become famous to the begging fraternity—except in these very rare instances, English beggars pass by large mansions as though they were empty churches or smallpox hospitals.

I don't suppose there is a more daring or more impudent rascal on earth than a good American beggar. It is always his boast that he has begged an ex-president, or the present one, and he claims to have received benefits from a number of well-known millionaires, actors, and prize-fighters. Such proud experiences never fall from the lips of an English beggar, for the simple reason that he lives on the working and middle classes. A row of small cottages is of more benefit to him than an equal number of fine villas, and he thinks that he is in a hungry wilderness when there is nothing to be seen but very large houses—and he is quite right.

It has always seemed strange to me that Americans, who as a race are notoriously eager to make money, should be so generous to a beggar. Even when they refuse it is often more on account of haste than meanness. Not only that, but they give with such indifference, and are never annoyed at being solicited, whether they are reading papers on the verandahs of hotels, or promenading a sea-beach in the company of ladies. And, what is more, they seldom pry into a beggar's past, except in such cases as when their interest is aroused by a beggar's speech. For instance, a gentleman's father or mother may have been English, Irish or Scotch, and when he thinks that he can detect that tongue in the speech of a beggar, he is very apt to ask one or two questions, and the beggar is invariably more generously assisted.

The American tramp begs in such a quick, thorough, business-like manner, with such calm persistence and with such confidence, that he must at last meet with success in the very worst places; for that reason he will not stand for cross-examination, and if people attempt to pry into his life, he is just as likely as not to tell them straight that he is a beggar, that he does not work, and never will.

The blindest housewife must soon have her eyes opened to the ingratitude of these men. Most of the houses in small American towns burn wood, so that a woman is often glad to give a tramp a good hot meal for five or ten minutes' wood-chopping. But when beggars are asked to chop wood for a meal, they complain of working on an empty stomach. Alas for their ingratitude! for, after being served with a good meal, they often walk away without a glance at the wood-pile. Some of them do worse—they take the axe, and after delivering one or two blows they manage to break the handle; then they take the axe to the mistress of the house, and after quietly apologizing for the accident, walk away with heavy bellies and light hearts.

One lady, who had been served this trick a number of times, had become so irritated, for she could no longer regard them as accidents, that she decided to feed no more tramps except when her husband was on the premises. Brum, my friend and tutor, unfortunately happened to call at this lady's house, and was at once informed that if he wanted a meal he would have to chop wood for it. Brum agreed to this, but suggested that he could work all the better for having the meal first. He was soon seated at the table, and after enjoying a very fine meal, repaired to the wood-pile. After chopping wood for five minutes he was just about to drop the axe and leave, when he heard a man cough. Looking in that direction, he saw to his surprise a man seated on a chair, watching him with a sarcastic smile on his face, and, what was far worse, a shot-gun was lying across his knees. There was nothing else for poor Brum to do than to continue chopping wood until the man gave him permission to go. Brum thought he would never regain his freedom, for it was a full half-hour before the man came forward and said, smiling coldly, "You may now go, for you have earned your meal."

For a long time after this incident the sight of a wood-pile made poor Brum feel faint and dizzy. No doubt it also filled him with a wish to have vengeance. It was a great pity that such a noble fellow should have to suffer this indignity through others. For Brum would always oblige the ladies by chopping a tiny bit of wood, but of course he would never work without first eating, and five minutes' work was his time limit for the very best of meals. He never broke an axe, or sneaked away without doing a little work.

Brum had his revenge when he took advantage of a lady at a large house, who was surrounded with servants of both sexes. This lady explained to Brum that she would give him a good meal, provided he would afterwards chop wood. He willingly gave a promise and took the meal. While he was chopping it came under his notice that his shoes were not altogether as good as they should be; so, after chopping enough wood to make a show, he deliberately chopped off the heel of his left shoe. After doing this he went to the lady and brought the "accident" to her notice. The result of this was that she, after looking in vain for an old pair, thought it cheaper to give Brum a dollar to buy a second-hand pair of shoes than to give away a pair of her husband's. So Brum was a dollar in pocket, for, being such a good beggar, he had very little difficulty in getting another pair, and of course people could see that he was sadly in need of them.

Ah, Brum was equal to almost any emergency, for he had marvellous impudence. See how he begged a dollar from the English consul in a seaport, and then went straight aboard a ship and begged soup of a common seaman! After which he swore that the soup had scalded his throat, and he begged sweetshops for jujubes to suck. A wonderful beggar! whose persuasive powers could succeed with a proud English consul, and was then equal to the task of approaching a common seaman.

But, after all is said, the most daring feat that was ever performed by an American tramp is not to be put to the credit of men who have begged presidents, millionaires, and consuls, but to a dirty, unkempt, hairy tramp, whose mind was suddenly illumined by the light of divine genius.

This man was so dirty and ragged that he was a disgrace to third-rate beggars, much less such men as Brum, New Haven Baldy, and Detroit Fatty. This man, satisfied with rags, dirt, and long matted hair and beard, suddenly became ambitious for fame, and inspired with an idea that had never before entered the minds of the most daring tramps. After having slept in the open air for a number of months, this man not only determined to sleep in a bed, but to wake the next morning famous like Byron. Inspired with this noble idea, he journeyed to a distant town, where lived the richest man in the land, surrounded by luxuries unequalled by kings. Everything was in the tramp's favour, for the richest man in the land was away from home, and the poorest and dirtiest man in the land had decided to sleep in the former's bed! That this tramp was under supernatural influence there can be no doubt, or how could he enter the grounds, much less the house, without being seen by one of the numerous servants? Again, what led his feet direct to that room—one of a hundred—and whispered in his ear, "This is his bed"? And such a bed it was! so white, so soft, so comfortable, that the happy tramp slept long after daylight.

No doubt he would have slept much longer, had he not been disturbed. For when next morning a servant entered the room, she saw, to her surprise and horror, some very ragged clothes at the foot of the bed, and a black tin can, which the tramp used for making coffee, hanging on the beautiful bedpost. After which she saw a very dirty pair of hands on the bed, and then she shrieked, for she now saw the dirtiest and roughest-looking face she had ever seen, there, on her master's white pillow. Her startled cry soon brought others, and it was not long before the sleeper, now awake and smiling, was out of bed and standing between two indignant constables, who stared at the dark shadow of their prisoner's head on the white pillow.

This, I believe, was the most daring feat that was ever performed by a tramp.