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
As we entered the outskirts of Bedford, my companion found it
necessary, owing to increase of traffic, to raise his voice, which he
continued to do until at last the traffic became so very great that he
could not make himself heard. I had not heard his voice for the last
five minutes, when he suddenly clutched my shoulder and demanded what
I thought of that. "You have a wonderful memory," I said. "Oh," said
he, "that is nothing; I could entertain you for several days in like
manner, with fresh matter each day. Here we are at the 'Cock.' I like
your company and, if you are travelling my way to-morrow, let us go
together. It is not every man that I would travel with two days in
succession." And, thought I, it is not every man would travel in your
company two days in succession. "Which way are you going?" I asked
him. "Towards Northampton," said he. "Alas," I answered, "my direction
is altogether different."
We now entered the "Cock," and after calling for two glasses of ale,
enquired as to accommodation for travellers, which we were informed
was good, there being plenty of room. Sometimes, if ale is not called
for, they are disinclined to letting beds, especially in the winter,
when they find so little difficulty in filling the house.
On entering the kitchen we found it occupied by a number of men, some
of whom recognised my fellow traveller, and spoke to him. But, strange
to say, although this man had proved so garrulous with one for a
companion, with the many he had very little to say, and sat in a
corner all through the evening smoking in silence, and paying no heed
to others either by tongue, eye, or ear. Once or twice I saw his lips
move, when filling his pipe, or knocking out its ashes, and I thought
that he was perhaps rehearsing and training his memory for the
following day, in case he would be again fortunate in picking up with
an easy fool like myself. For, no doubt, the poor old fellow had been
often commanded to desist from reciting, and ordered to hell by
impatient and unsympathetic men whom he had at first mistaken for
quiet and good natured companions. I had not by a look or a word
sought to offend him, but one day of his company was certainly
enough.
CHAPTER XXX
THE FORTUNE
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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