IV BROTHER PARASITES 219 



It was his presence there among the outward signs 

 of Christmas that shocked one on his behalf. 



The police got wind of how he slept. They 

 moved him on from an upturned boat. They 

 turned him out of two linhays in the allotments. 

 They procured him seven days for sleeping under 

 the leaky roof of the bark-house upon the sodden 

 nets that are left there In heaps. Again, he was 

 tracked to a cave under the cliffs. That meant 

 fourteen days hard. Beautiful Onionhead became 

 a public character, an incorrigible, a subject of 

 argument. The town, which is parasitical — on 

 gentry, visitors, and fishermen — and hates Its 

 brother parasites in a lower class of life, would 

 have had him put away for fourteen months or 

 years. The beach, robuster, more happy-go-lucky, 

 and tenderer to those who prey upon it, wanted to 

 know: 'Why the hell couldn' 'em let the poor ol' 

 chap bide in his cave? He wasn't doing no harm 

 to nobody. Snug enough he was, an' he couldn't 

 hurt nothing 'cause there wasn't nort there for 

 to hurt. If 't had been a gen'leman wi' money 

 in his pocket an' a bed at home, they'd ha' let 

 'en bide so long as he was minded to. 'Cause 

 'tis an old man that an't got no money for a 

 bed an' don' know where to get It, they goes 



