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Show j IRISH CHARACTER SKETCHES. - Coninued.) t s A tramp is a. professional man. The ; love of the road la born in him and grows each day stronger and stronger, ', and old :igc, with all its infirmities, the i rummer's heat and the winter's storm ; lessens not his love for the dusty and : muddy highways. A tramp once, a tramp ever. Other professional nm may wander outside the sphere of their 5 profession and dabble in music, paint- i lug, poetry or some kindred subjects, but the tramp wanders not outside the ' confines of the road, the road and thy : I cities and villages on it are his ideal. ' He scorns books, he scorns work, the crass by the wayside and the trees ? are his ideals of nature, and the blue vault of heaven his ideal of art. "A boy's will is the winds will," 1 says the poet. f "And a tramp's will is his own will," tin Via t-o rr 11 1 wonder who it vas that called the tramp species weary Willies. To my r mi:d it Is not a good adjective, that v. ord weary, when applied to iramp, ! for there is nothing weary about a real tramp, so far as I can sea. A real tramp in about .he sharpest judge of men end things that I know of. If he was not, his occupation, like that of Othello's, "would be gone." You may pay to me Oh. isn't his gait weary. My dear fellow you don't understand the profession. A weary gait signifies not I when applied to a tramp the word tired, but the word wily, bet me prove j It to you. just iook lor one moment at yonder tramp. He is a professional I one. Low-sized, with an old white slouch hz.l sitting on one bide of his head, a trousers much tou large and frayed at the heels, he got it from Father Tom, a waistcoat with all the colors of the rainbow in it. and with ! .1 V... Vi,, ..,. in 'Hes fVio ' gift of Squire Jones: a coat, it was a Jounge one evidently from the shape of it. and it is a double lounge one now i because of its owner; it has no buttons, twine supplies their place that coat Is the gift of Mr. Mannering, the Prot- ' stant minister; the tie is a sporting one, minus the pin; it belonged to Tom Nolan, the horse trainer; and the boots, what remained of them, once graced the feet of the bishop of the diocese; the toe is gone from one 'and the heel from the other. It does not matter, however; they are cool in the summer and they let in the water in the winter and let it out again. I knew i a prominent doctor who always used the like kind when going on a long shooting expedition; the stockings, well oiie of them is a piece of a petticoat ftvd the other a piece of a shirt, such j 5s a genera! description of the gar- ? ircnts. Now for the man. He is me dium sized, 'with a beard of a month'.s grov, th, acting: as a cuirass for his face an chin; lips about which a continual con-tinual smile plays, and through which we discern teeth perfect in their formation, for-mation, but black as indigo from tobacco to-bacco juice:- the face is slightly pock-5 pock-5 marked, and there is a long scar run ning across the cheek. He would tell you he got it in the Crimean war from ' I a Russian sabre, but we know other- ' wise. A brr.nch of a tree, during his ? deep sleep beneath its shelter remind - - f him that there was a storm raging, t "What the tramp said. well. I could not 1 chronicle. All I can say is that there . was more sulphur in the air for ten 5 mirutes than was caused by the light- ; I mng's flash. You have seen often - ; I times, I suppose, a ferret's eye: well, ' " the eyes of my tramp were similar, I they did everything ever mortal eyes I ii j 'except close during sleep. Like the 1 stn'ior's. they were always on the look- - J out. Xow I told my readers 1 would prove that this tramp of mine was not j a weary Willie, but a wily Willie. Creeping slowly along the road there 1 j i not an object within radius of him i but lie observes. That piece of brown ' ! lK-ncr over the other side of the way j h.MS to be probed with his stick, it ; 1 might contain some food or valuable, 5 I yi.iu know. Yonder heap of manure t 1 has to be inspected, for who could tell ; what a careless farmer would do a watch, a knife, a scissors or some such thing might be there. That piece of an old petticoat has to be inspected, loo. for Alary Jane might have stuck j -j her brooch there during her careless ' moments: )'" she has not, well, its fine ? linen and bands of it will make a stocking. Yonder farmhouse has a i prosperous sippearanoe about It, and although it is a good mile in off the road, my tramp, after a diligent study J r of it. comes to the conclusion that it is , worth the walk there. Buffalo Bill I and his scouts never reconoitered an 5 . Indian encampment with such care , i and shrewdness as my tramp does the - - farmhouse. He mentally calculates that if there are no men around the place he will terrorize the women folk rnd carry off a good haul. He stands Jor a few moments at the kitchen door Wor? knocking, and then, with an imperious rap of his knotted stick, he puts the question in a tone of demand rather then entreaty: j 'Help a poor man, ma'am, on the I The occupant of the house comes to the door, and if she is alone she, fear-in- that curious looking customer, she brings as quickly as she can some eat- a'oics. The tramp looks with scorn on the food and says: "I don't want yer food, I'd rather I have money, an' I generally take noth- 5 13 less than two shillings from the likes I ov you." . "i haven't two shillings about me. I Y.'ud wan do yeh?" ' I might take it iv yen throw in wud it a pound or two ov bacon. Hurry up, ma'aan, for me time Is precious." The woman, only too glad to be rid of the tramp, gives him the money and the bacon, and with. "Ych owe he en-other en-other shilling, ma'am, ych can pay Jt v bin I come agin." the tramp departs. I but not before he takes two chickens ' from the hen coop. Bacon doesn't go ! well without chicken, so my tramp thinks. This is the parish priest's heme, and my tramp must be on his best behavior here. Father Tom is reading his office on ore me nan ooor, ana my tramp, rat I in hand, and with a pious face, stands I about three yards away. Not a word is I spoken by either party. Father Tom j looks at the tramp and moves slowly I away. The tramp looks at Father Tom, I and slowly follows him. keeping the I regulation distance. This prqc.eaing Is continues for fully ten minute;, and then Father Tom, tired of the tramp's attentions, turns suddenly around end rayf in a cross tone: t I "I have nrthing for you today, my s-jnd man." I "Begorrs. yr reverince, 'tis the first J time I ever heard that from yer lips. I 1 cion't trouble yeh often, an' the last I limo I seen yer reverince was nearly I Fix months ago. whin I was dr.n me Aister duty in yer chapil. I didn't ax yeh for anythin' then, as I was attend-in' attend-in' to me sowl. bud today I'm badly off an' I want a little for me body." "I told you I have nothing for you. You may go away and work." "I can't get work, yer reverince. l.fph or low; iv I cud it's not me priests i'd I be troublin." I "Yes, you could get work if -"ou I , wished, but" "As Enure yer reverince aa I'm a livin' t man. bud I axed every farmer in the country for work, an they hadn't a stroke, cv work for me, so iv yer reverince rever-ince doesn't come to me assistance now I'll die on the road o starvaslum. I didn't ate a bit (bite) or sup since yis-terday yis-terday mornin'." "There's a shilling for you, and yet away out of my sight." . "Thank yer reverince, an' iv 1'nrany-way 1'nrany-way near I'll be at yer mass on Sunday to hear yeh praich, for it's yeh can do it, an I'll never forget yeh in me roor prayers." Air. Mannering, the local magistrate, is driving along the road, my tramp sees him and, taking off his hat, he leans both hands on his stick and waits. The magistrate approaches, and my tramp, when the dignitary of the law comes within striking distance, salutes sa-lutes him with; 1 J-ong nve to yer honor, bud it s yen that's lookin' well. I never see yer bud it's younger yere ettin'." No reply from Mr. Mannering. "In all me travels. I never met. the likes ov yer honor for ginerosity an' signs on it. Everything thrives wud yeh. shure yeh have the finest bullocks in the whole country, an' everything yeh touch yeh paint in gould, becase yeh have the saints an' the poor like me prayin' for yeh." "My good tramp, the likes of you are a nuisance, and 1 have given orders to Sergeant Hanley to lock such as you up. Get away now." "To hear yeh spakin". why, a poor man wud think yer honor was in earn- i i.st, bud shure it's the way yer honor has ov doin' good turns. Ye're a scriptural scrip-tural man along wud bein' a law man, an' yeh never let the right hand know what yer left does. The likes ov me troth thin, we wud," and the tramp's eyes fill with tears and his stick makes holes in the ground. "There's a shilling for you, and never let me see your face again." "Ah, shure, yer honor, wudn't insult the dignity ov the binch be offerin' me a mane shillin', make ft two, yer honor, an' I'll be always prayin' for yeh, an' ych won't see me agin for a month ov Sundays, perhaps never, for I have a' bad cowld (the tramp gave a bad cough) it has me caught here (placing a hand on his chest), an' Doctor Gerald says unless I get a little nourishmint I'm a dead man. bud shure. praises bc-( to the saints, I'm prepared to go at any minute." Fly temptation, or it will conquer you. is a true saying, and the same holds good in regard to a born tramp. Run away from him as he will find the soft side of you. You mav frown, you may call him all the hard names in the calendar, you may do what vou will but 1 tell you candidly a born tramp v.UI conquer you if you remain in his company five minutes. He is the greatest great-est student of men and things in existence, exist-ence, and if there is one weak point in 'UU1 '-oMifruaiiiun me tramp will find it out and the victory is his. There i no profession that so trulv put in force the faying. "Be all things to all men." as a born tramp. Tramp, tramp, my tramp goes marching, march-ing, A saint, a martyr and a rogue. And. like fate, there's no resisting. The honeyed accents of his brogue. By Cabin. Next week: "The Ballad Singer." |