TRAMPS 127 



When the weather is really tolerably fine, that jovial 

 bearing of his is anything but forced. The world is 

 all before him where to choose, and he is in no hurry 

 about making his way through it. He has only to 

 avoid those inhospitable localities he has marked with a 

 black spot on the map which he carries in his mind, 

 where mendicity associations have introduced the un- 

 generous practice of scattering tickets to be bestowed in 

 shape of alms. Nowhere, indeed, in our wealthy and 

 charitable country, need he have any apprehension of 

 being pinched by hunger. Bread may be had almost 

 anywhere for the asking, and he turns up his nose at 

 hunches from the loaf, and even looks askance at frag- 

 ments of cold meat. He stows away about his person 

 everything that can be bartered for beer, and chucks 

 contemptuously into the nearest hedgerow the super- 

 fluity of those broken victuals that he has crammed into 

 his pockets on principle. The tramp, in fact, lives 

 exceedingly well ; and if you consider his upbringing, 

 and the circumstances of his existence, many a rich 

 gourmand might envy him. Slumbers al fresco^ early 

 hours, and gentle exercise not overdone, are perpetually 

 putting an edge on his appetite. As a boy, and before 

 he could fend for himself, he was in the receipt of many 

 more kicks than halfpence, and was kept on something 

 shorter than half-commons. Had he married and 

 become the father of a growing family like honest 

 Hodge, whom he eyes superciliously as Hodge digs in 

 the ditch or hacks at the hedgerows with his billhook, 

 he would have had a load of household cares on his 



