The Autobiography of a Super-TrampDavies, W. H. (William Henry)
General
The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp
Davies, W. H. (William Henry)
Davies, W. H. (William Henry), 1871-1940; Poets, English -- 20th century -- Biography; Tramps -- Biography
had not been so ambitious to excel in other and more infamous parts,
all would have been well, and my schooldays would have been something
of a credit to me. But unfortunately, at this time, I organised a band
of robbers, six in number, and all of good families and comfortable
homes. It was our wont to enter busy stores, knowing that small boys
would not be attended to until the grown people had finished their
purchases. Then we would slyly take things up for a curious
examination, at the same time watching a favourable opportunity to
surreptitiously appropriate them. When accosted by the shopman as to
our wants we would innocently ask the price of some article we had
agreed on, and receiving answer, would quietly leave the premises.
This went on for some time, and I had nefariously profited by a large
assortment of miscellaneous articles, such as paints, brushes, books,
bottles of scent and various other items that could not be preserved,
such as sweets and confectionery. How this continued for six weeks
speaks well for our well laid plans, and our dexterity in the
performance of them. My girl, Maggie, who had, during our early
acquaintance, received only presents of wild flowers and birds' eggs,
and occasionally a handful of nuts, was now the happy possessor of
valuable presents in the shape of purses, pocket books, bottles of
scents, pencils of silver, not to mention having received a hundred
different sorts of sweets and cake that was superior to her mother's.
Time after time she promised not to betray me; or any of my
confederates. The latter often warned me against reposing confidence
in the other sex. One produced a book, at that very moment, which told
how a woman betrayed a gang of robbers; and it was his firm opinion
that the other sex could not be trusted farther than they could be
seen.
At home I was cured of thieving by what I thought at that time to be a
very remarkable incident--no more or less than the result of
witchcraft. One day my grandmother happened to be standing before the
fire cooking, and above the fireplace was a large mirror, towards
which her eyes were turned. Thinking this a favourable opportunity to
rifle the sugar basin, I lost no time in making the attempt; but my
fingers had scarcely closed on a large lump when the old lady, without
in the least turning her head, cried in a shrill voice, "You dare!"
For my life I could not account for this discovery, and it sent such a
shock through me that I never again attempted in the old lady's
presence to be other than honest. She could close her eyes in the arm
chair and even breathe audibly, but I never had the confidence to
make another attempt. But this incident at home had no detrimental
effect on my courage abroad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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