"If you like to put up with what we've got, join us an' welcome," the tall tramp said. "All right," Hamilton answered, "I will." "Permit me to do the honours!" said the second tramp. "This is 'Hatchet' Ben Barclay, the gentleman sitting down is 'Jolly' Joe Smith--not because of his humor but because of his powers of persuasion, and I am Harry Downe, very much at your service." "Better known as the 'Windy Duke,'" interjected the tea-maker, who had by this time returned to his task of preparing breakfast, and was busy frying slices of ham on a piece of stick over the hot wood coals. "I'm Hamilton Noble," the boy answered in return, "and I've just got through taking the census for this district. I've got all the names in here," he added, tapping his portfolio, "and now I'm going to the supervisor's office to turn in my reports." "I am afraid your census will be incomplete," said 'Windy,' "for, so far as I am aware, the rolls of the United States will be lacking the names and distinction of this gallant little company." "Haven't you been listed?" asked Hamilton, glad that the subject should have seemed to come up in so natural a way and mentally congratulating himself on the success of his device to secure the friendship of the crowd. "Nary a list," said 'Hatchet Ben,' "the rustlers of the Ringling Circus told us that they had been enumerated four times, once for every week they played, an' that not a blessed one of the census men would believe they had been taken before; but they cut us out entire." "Well, I guess I had better take you right now," said Hamilton. "I've room on the census sheet for a few more names." "You can count me out," said 'Hatchet Ben,' "I'm not lookin' for that kind of fame." "Don't you think it's fair to the country to let it know who you are?" "What's the census to me?" the other said defiantly. "I calc'late a country that doesn't give a fellow a livin' doesn't care much about his name." "But you're getting a living, just the same," answered Hamilton, "and you're an American, anyhow, aren't you?" "New York State," the tramp replied. "And you?" asked Hamilton, turning to the orator of the party. "I'm an Oxford man," answered the 'Windy Duke,' "classical tripos--if you know what that means." "I do," answered Hamilton, "but why--" and he stopped. "You were going to ask me why I prefer to wander afield rather than be 'cribbed and confined' within narrow walls. I am but one of many, an educated man without any knowledge of how to use his learning. Do you care for Greek? There are some clever scenes from Aristophanes that I can give you, or if you have a taste for satire I yield second place to none in my interpretation of Juvenal. On the pre-Cadmean alphabets I am--in my humble way--quite an authority. But these magnificent talents," he added with a self-depreciatory smile, "do not enable me to run a business as successfully as a Greek fruit peddler or a Russian Jew vender of old clothes."