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Show IsiHiiSfiiJIirfiSi A-x YX- . ShfrfKM & amp ? pJx nfX Xv-rfe-- J7!!::::tsw TfcL CIRCLED the obe on Sf, OUjj twenty-six dollars." .i-" XXX . SS" teM from coast to const on nine- "cr Vy V vJt'r' vt"l teen dollars." o P X "We left for Florida with r? -""33iL- cX$' i'vP1 flfty dollars and came back fU)JrZir Q ET with ninety." V&gg I CIRCLED the globe on isT twenty-six dollars." J ' "Four of us traveled tefj from coast to coast on nine- teen dollars." X "We left for Florida with K"a& fifty dollars and came back !Pj with ninety." Statements similar to these are heard frequently nowadays. Every one is traveling. It matters little, it seems, whether yon can afford to travel. Just set out and Providence fill take care of you, seems to be the formula. At least, this was true until re-tenfly. re-tenfly. Now, It appears, "bumming" one's way is becoming increasingly difficult. Interviews with recent adventurers ad-venturers who had set out with a burning desire and a five-dollar bill lo see the world, all indicate that the vnrld is becoming hard-boiled and has frrran tired of lending its co-operation to ambitious but practically bankrupt bank-rupt "bummers." This is thrown in here nt the he-finning he-finning as a bit of precautionary information in-formation for those, who, reading this, m find in it the spark which would t off that urge present In most of us some time, to break with our sur-ronndinps sur-ronndinps and go. Five years ago you I'Mt have made n success of it, but Way it's different. Too many have Flayed the game. The sympathy of le "odd toward such enterprises Is 'early exhausted. Ask those who have M'l recent experiences. The hobo of yesteryear was a clown Character. He was more laughed at n P"ipl. Prodigal son of one kind " another, he found the open road avenue of escape from his bur-s- It was a life of danger In which ns mixed adventure and hardship, l,n"r.v days and bedless nights, and (1 Jail and the rockpile. w "blanket stiff," the most rootle ro-otle of the hoboes, followed the ''") trails westward and crowded frontier to the ocean, with the hi ,, ploneers. the "blanket stiff" but vanished. By his brawn -J mads were built. And in turn, (Mi l- he create(1 served only to 11 "is doom, Hnd create In his stead ,,le TUn-riding hobo. The Motor Tramp Arrives. bile u,r'Ve hihwnv and the automo'-th- .,. y ls hastening the passing of "um-r!ding generation. The day " motor (ramp is here, and, scoff IK, TM, 01 ,he W school, it's a soft and oniv "r"lms was n man's t'!Ulle' ture Playpd If women fully T on, the nJ they went care- and1"?0 n,Uon,ulle, invading hobo- tratt., X' ,hlng9' Life 13 so t- ''velln PaSy that u mny be Oren . ,5 ' wo"en and even by chil- socIm , ld hobo wns a burden nerelv i was a socIal Problem . irass e was a transient Mhor maD- A few meals and ol ,W0Uld e him on his way. U)blle 1 seriousl-v- But the au-tesuld au-tesuld SS US entlre hobo famines, 'eproblUmber f Sdal and. Jrouds today are two classes: the "hitch-hikers" without cars of their own, and the car owners. There ls a wide range of types in both classes, from the penniless, Jobless family to the carefree hitch-hiker with money to his pocket. . The ranks of the hitch-hikers are made up chiefly of young folk, khaki clad, with packs on their backs. Equipped for hiking, they hike but little, once they have acquired the knack of gaining the sympathetic motorist's mo-torist's good will. Among them you will find the modern young woman out for experience, the college graduate spending his vacation before buckling down to work, and even high school lads wearing their first long trousers. Xoung married couples too poor to own a car and too energetic to stay nt home find this means" to break with convention, to absorb a bit of wordly wisdom, and to enjoy the thrill never encountered In their years of humdrum hum-drum existence In drab homes. For many the open road ls Indeed an avenue ave-nue of escape. They Play and Work. Occasionally your hitch-hiker is forced to work. Here and there he or she will wrestle dishes In a restaurant, res-taurant, perhaps wash windows, mow lawns, or take any odd job that presents pre-sents Itself. For emergencies most of them have resources upon which they can draw. This Is a wise precaution, pre-caution, for at times the labor supply In the odd-Job market exceeds the demand. Society may be just a bit bored by these hitch-hiking hoboes, with their flair for "self-expression" and the "new freedom." They are tolerated, however, for they present no considerable consid-erable social problem. Generally they know where they are going and how they are going to get there. The second class of modern hoboes the "auto gypsy," the "flivver family" fam-ily" has become a pest to the towns and a trial to the cities in many sections sec-tions of the country. From ail Indications Indi-cations their number is on the Increase. In-crease. They are most troublesome in the West, particularly along the Pacific Pa-cific coast, where food Is plentiful, fuel is cheap, and the climate pleasant. pleas-ant. The hobo of the old school was a colorful gent who begged and pilfered as he went. While his exploits were spectacular, the social problems Involved In-volved were not difficult. They could be jailed or driven out of town. Bring women and children into the picture and such methods cannot be app led. The wandering family cannot be driven driv-en and they must not be sent away '""Cheese It, de cops!" would scatter scat-ter a campflre gathering of old-time hoboes. But other methods must be found In handling the auto gypsies who infi t the camps and parking grounds so generously provided In towns and cities. A Bee-Lino for Charity. Arriving in town, the auto gypsy and his family seek out the nearest charitable organization. If there is no such body, he approaches the town officials. He wants work, he says. Meanwhile, his family throw themselves them-selves upon the charity of the townspeople. towns-people. If no work Is found, the usunl procedure pro-cedure Is to stock the car with rations ra-tions for a few days, fill the gas tank, and hurry them away. It's the easiest way out of an unfortunate situation. Both sides win : the town has rid itself it-self of another charge, and the family has prolonged Its miserable existence. And a miserable existence it ls from the point of view of the indivldu. al who loves his home. Here ls a hobo plus his family. Instead of leaving leav-ing them and wandering alone, ha takes his family along. The old train-riding train-riding hobo frequently was a family deserter, but In the new order the family stick together. All their worldly world-ly possessions are In 6r strapped to their decrepit vehicle. Wliat happens to the children reared under such circumstances? What of their education? Will they, too, grow up to be hoboes? Tb's is the gravest aspect of the many sociai problems arising from life on the open road. Pauperism breeds pauperism. True, the child learns many tricks, but they will be of little use in the ordinary walks of life. The Country Has Been Kind. As the family travels the education of the road child is interrupted again and again. Absence from school as long as an entire year ls not uncommon. uncom-mon. Already steps have been taken for reaching the truant child of the auto gypsy. Several counties in California Cali-fornia have truant officers on motorcycles. motor-cycles. Patrolling the highways, they are ever alert for these dodgers of the three R's. Good roads, cheap cars and fuei make it easy for the auto gypsy. Until Un-til recently the country has been kind to his tribe. Enjoying the prestige afforded by possession of an automobile, automo-bile, he and his family have been regarded re-garded in the past as an exceptional case. "These poor folks have been unfortunate," thought the townspeople, touched deeply by the sight of a woman wom-an and her children, poorly clothed, dusty, tired, hungry. And so they helped them. But as their tribe increased, and "these poor folks" came to be regarded re-garded as just another hobo family, sentiment began to change. "It's a fine game, this 'bumming" your way about the country," say the exasperated exasper-ated people of town and countryside. |