the uncommercial traveller- 第27部分

passing　property　in　the　air；　which　may　have　left　something　to　eat

behind　it。　　They　look　upon　old　shoes；　wrecks　of　kettles　and

saucepans；　and　fragments　of　bonnets；　as　a　kind　of　meteoric

discharge；　for　fowls　to　peck　at。　　Peg…tops　and　hoops　they　account；

I　think；　as　a　sort　of　hail；　shuttlecocks；　as　rain；　or　dew。

Gaslight　comes　quite　as　natural　to　them　as　any　other　light；　and　I

have　more　than　a　suspicion　that；　in　the　minds　of　the　two　lords；　the

early　public…house　at　the　corner　has　superseded　the　sun。　　I　have

established　it　as　a　certain　fact；　that　they　always　begin　to　crow

when　the　public…house　shutters　begin　to　be　taken　down；　and　that

they　salute　the　potboy；　the　instant　he　appears　to　perform　that

duty；　as　if　he　were　Phoebus　in　person。







CHAPTER　XI　…　TRAMPS







The　chance　use　of　the　word　'Tramp'　in　my　last　paper；　brought　that

numerous　fraternity　so　vividly　before　my　mind's　eye；　that　I　had　no

sooner　laid　down　my　pen　than　a　compulsion　was　upon　me　to　take　it　up

again；　and　make　notes　of　the　Tramps　whom　I　perceived　on　all　the

summer　roads　in　all　directions。



Whenever　a　tramp　sits　down　to　rest　by　the　wayside；　he　sits　with　his

legs　in　a　dry　ditch；　and　whenever　he　goes　to　sleep　（which　is　very

often　indeed）；　he　goes　to　sleep　on　his　back。　　Yonder；　by　the　high

road；　glaring　white　in　the　bright　sunshine；　lies；　on　the　dusty　bit

of　turf　under　the　bramble…bush　that　fences　the　coppice　from　the

highway；　the　tramp　of　the　order　savage；　fast　asleep。　　He　lies　on

the　broad　of　his　back；　with　his　face　turned　up　to　the　sky；　and　one

of　his　ragged　arms　loosely　thrown　across　his　face。　　His　bundle

（what　can　be　the　contents　of　that　mysterious　bundle；　to　make　it

worth　his　while　to　carry　it　about？）　is　thrown　down　beside　him；　and

the　waking　woman　with　him　sits　with　her　legs　in　the　ditch；　and　her

back　to　the　road。　　She　wears　her　bonnet　rakishly　perched　on　the

front　of　her　head；　to　shade　her　face　from　the　sun　in　walking；　and

she　ties　her　skirts　round　her　in　conventionally　tight　tramp…fashion

with　a　sort　of　apron。　　You　can　seldom　catch　sight　of　her；　resting

thus；　without　seeing　her　in　a　despondently　defiant　manner　doing

something　to　her　hair　or　her　bonnet；　and　glancing　at　you　between

her　fingers。　　She　does　not　often　go　to　sleep　herself　in　the

daytime；　but　will　sit　for　any　length　of　time　beside　the　man。　　And

his　slumberous　propensities　would　not　seem　to　be　referable　to　the

fatigue　of　carrying　the　bundle；　for　she　carries　it　much　oftener　and

further　than　he。　　When　they　are　afoot；　you　will　mostly　find　him

slouching　on　ahead；　in　a　gruff　temper；　while　she　lags　heavily

behind　with　the　burden。　　He　is　given　to　personally　correcting　her；

too　…　which　phase　of　his　character　develops　itself　oftenest；　on

benches　outside　alehouse　doors　…　and　she　appears　to　become　strongly

attached　to　him　for　these　reasons；　it　may　usually　be　noticed　that

when　the　poor　creature　has　a　bruised　face；　she　is　the　most

affectionate。　　He　has　no　occupation　whatever；　this　order　of　tramp；

and　has　no　object　whatever　in　going　anywhere。　　He　will　sometimes

call　himself　a　brickmaker；　or　a　sawyer；　but　only　when　he　takes　an

imaginary　flight。　　He　generally　represents　himself；　in　a　vague　way；

as　looking　out　for　a　job　of　work；　but　he　never　did　work；　he　never

does；　and　he　never　will。　　It　is　a　favourite　fiction　with　him；

however　（as　if　he　were　the　most　industrious　character　on　earth）；

that　YOU　never　work；　and　as　he　goes　past　your　garden　and　sees　you

looking　at　your　flowers；　you　will　overhear　him　growl　with　a　strong

sense　of　contrast；　'YOU　are　a　lucky　hidle　devil；　YOU　are！'



The　slinking　tramp　is　of　the　same　hopeless　order；　and　has　the　same

injured　conviction　on　him　that　you　were　born　to　whatever　you

possess；　and　never　did　anything　to　get　it：　　but　he　is　of　a　less

audacious　disposition。　　He　will　stop　before　your　gate；　and　say　to

his　female　companion　with　an　air　of　constitutional　humility　and

propitiation　…　to　edify　any　one　who　may　be　within　hearing　behind　a

blind　or　a　bush　…　'This　is　a　sweet　spot；　ain't　it？　　A　lovelly　spot！

And　I　wonder　if　they'd　give　two　poor　footsore　travellers　like　me

and　you；　a　drop　of　fresh　water　out　of　such　a　pretty　gen…teel　crib？

We'd　take　it　wery　koind　on　'em；　wouldn't　us？　　Wery　koind；　upon　my

word；　us　would？'　　He　has　a　quick　sense　of　a　dog　in　the　vicinity；

and　will　extend　his　modestly…injured　propitiation　to　the　dog

chained　up　in　your　yard；　remarking；　as　he　slinks　at　the　yard　gate；

'Ah！　　You　are　a　foine　breed　o'　dog；　too；　and　YOU　ain't　kep　for

nothink！　　I'd　take　it　wery　koind　o'　your　master　if　he'd　elp　a

traveller　and　his　woife　as　envies　no　gentlefolk　their　good　fortun；

wi'　a　bit　o'　your　broken　wittles。　　He'd　never　know　the　want　of　it；

nor　more　would　you。　　Don't　bark　like　that；　at　poor　persons　as　never

done　you　no　arm；　the　poor　is　down…trodden　and　broke　enough　without

that；　O　DON'T！'　　He　generally　heaves　a　prodigious　sigh　in　moving

away；　and　always　looks　up　the　lane　and　down　the　lane；　and　up　the

road　and　down　the　road；　before　going　on。



Both　of　these　orders　of　tramp　are　of　a　very　robust　habit；　let　the

hard…working　labourer　at　whose　cottage…door　they　prowl　and　beg；

have　the　ague　never　so　badly；　these　tramps　are　sure　to　be　in　good

health。



There　is　another　kind　of　tramp；　whom　you　encounter　this　bright

summer　day　…　say；　on　a　road　with　the　sea…breeze　making　its　dust

lively；　and　sails　of　ships　in　the　blue　distance　beyond　the　slope　of

Down。　　As　you　walk　enjoyingly　on；　you　descry　in　the　perspective　at

the　bottom　of　a　steep　hill　up　which　your　way　lies；　a　figure　that

appears　to　be　sitting　airily　on　a　gate；　whistling　in　a　cheerful　and

disengaged　manner。　　As　you　approach　nearer　to　it；　you　observe　the

figure　to　slide　down　from　the　gate；　to　desist　from　whistling；　to

uncock　its　hat；　to　become　tender　of　foot；　to　depress　its　head　and

elevate　its　shoulders；　and　to　present　all　the　characteristics　of

profound　despondency。　　Arriving　at　the　bottom　of　the　hill　and

coming　close　to　the　figure；　you　observe　it　to　be　the　figure　of　a

shabby　young　man。　　He　is　moving　painfully　forward；　in　the　direction

in　which　you　are　going；　and　his　mind　is　so　preoccupied　with　his

misfortunes　that　he　is　not　aware　of　your　approach　until　you　are

close　upon　him　at　the　hill…foot。　　When　he　is　aware　of　you；　you

discover　him　to　be　a　remarkably　well…behaved　young　man；　and　a

remarkably　well…spoken　young　man。　　You　know　him　to　be　well…behaved；

by　his　respectful　manner　of　touching　his　hat：　　you　know　him　to　be

well…spoken；　by　his　smooth　manner　of　expressing　himself。　　He　says

in　a　flowing　confidential　voice；　and　without　punctuation；　'I　ask

your　pardon　sir　but　if　you　would　excuse　the　liberty　of　being　so

addressed　upon　the　public　Iway　by　one　who　is　almost　reduced　to　rags

though　it　as　not　always　been　so　and　by　no　fault　of　his　own　but

through　ill　elth　in　his　family　and　many　unmerited　sufferings　it

would　be　a　great　obligation　sir　to　know　the　time。'　　You　give　the

well…spoken　young　man　the　time。　　The　well…spoken　young　man；　keeping

well　up　with　you；　resumes：　　'I　am　aware　sir　that　it　is　a　liberty　to

intrude　a　further　question　on　a　gentleman　walking　for　his

entertainment　but　might　I　make　so　bold　as　ask　the　favour　of　the　way

to　Dover　sir　and　about　the　distance？'　　You　inform　the　well…spoken

young　man　that　the　way　to　Dover　is　straight　on；　and　the　distance

some　eighteen　miles。　　The　well…spoken　young　man　becomes　greatly

agitated。　　'In　the　condition　to　which　I　am　reduced；'　says　he；　'I

could　not　ope　to　reach　Dover　before　dark　even　if　my　shoes　were　in　a

state　to　take　me　there　or　my　feet　were　in　a　state　to　old　out　over

the　flinty　road　and　were　not　on　the　bare　ground　of　which　any

gentleman　has　the　means　to　satisfy　himself　by　looking　Sir　may　I

take　the　liberty　of　speaking　to　you？'　　As　the　well…spoken　young　man

keeps　so　well　up　with　you　that　you　can't　prevent　his　taking　the

liberty　of　speaking　to　you；　he　goes　on；　with　fluency：　　'Sir　it　is

not　begging　that　is　my　intention　for　I　was　brought　up　by　the　best

of　mothers　and　begging　is　not　my　trade　I　should　not　know　sir　how　to

follow　it　as　a　trade　if　such　were　my　shameful　wishes　for　the　best

of　mothers　long　taught　otherwise　and　in　the　best　of　omes　though　now

reduced　to　take　the　present　liberty　on　the　Iway　Sir　my　business　was

the　law…stationering　and　I　was　favourably　known　to　the　Solicitor…

General　the　Attorney…General　the　majority　of　the　judges　and　the　ole

of　the　legal　profession　but　through　ill　elth　in　my　family　and　the

treachery　of　a　friend　for　whom　I　became　security　and　he　no　other

than　my　own　wife's　brother　the　brother　of　my　own　wife　I　was　cast

forth　with　my　tender　partner　and　three　young　children　not　to　beg

for　I　will　sooner　die　of　deprivation　but　to　make　my　way　to　the　sea…

port　town　of　Dover　where　I　have　a　relative　i　in　respect　not　only

that　will　assist　me　but　that　would　trust　me　with　untold　gold　Sir　in

appier　times　and　hare　this　calamity　fell　upon　me　I　made　for　my

amusement　when　I　little　thought　that　I