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
Who would have dreamt that so many well known beggars would have met
together at one camp, without any prearranged plans? The time was
morning and the scene was on the outskirts of Pittsburg, and the
characters were Philadelphia Slim and Wee Shorty, who had all night
ridden the freight car and had now dismounted near the camp, which
they knew of old. They both had cold victuals in plenty, with dry
coffee and sugar, and they were not long in making a blaze and
fetching water from the spring before they were seated comfortably to
their breakfast, after which they intended to sleep, for they were
more weary than working men.
They were not without money; for Wee Shorty and Slim had, the day
previous, been encamped with others about a hundred miles from the
present spot, at which place there had come to the camp an unfortunate
blacksmith who possessed society papers but lacked courage to beg with
them. On which Wee Shorty had conceived a most daring plan, which was
to borrow the aforesaid papers, with the blacksmith's consent, and to
make his way to the nearest blacksmith's shop. With this idea in his
mind the Wee Man had bound his hand in white linen, so that he could
plead disablement in case the blacksmith doubted him to be the
legitimate owner of the papers, and to prove his veracity, would test
him with a little job. After binding his hand in this way, Wee Shorty,
who was no more than five feet in height, and who had small white
hands and a pale face, and whose weight never exceeded seven stone and
a half, and who looked more like a sickly tailor than a
blacksmith--after taking this precaution, Wee Shorty made his way to
the blacksmith's shop. In less than twenty minutes he had returned
with a dollar in small change, and had returned the poor blacksmith
his papers, and generously given him one-fourth of his makings. Yes,
it would indeed be a hard town if this wee fellow failed to make
money.
As I have already said, Slim and the artful one were tired after their
night's ride, and they were well pleased to find the camp unoccupied
by strangers. But they had scarcely made their coffee and swallowed
the first mouthful, when the dried twigs were heard to crack beneath a
heavy tread and, the next moment, there walked into the camp the
Indian Kid, whom the present proprietors had not seen for over twelve
months.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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