the Umpqua I used to find goose feathers every
few hundred yards. On that same tramp down through Oregon I once met
four men travelling north. There had been a murder committed by a tramp
in the south of Roseberg, and we stopped under an old scrubby oak to
talk it over. Three of them were working men, but the fourth was a true
professional, about fifty years of age, whose clothes were ragged to the
last extremity of tatters. His hands were brown at the backs, but I
noticed, when I gave him some tobacco, which he very promptly asked for,
that the palms were perfectly soft. He told us how long he had
travelled, and how many years it was since he had done any work; and,
finally rising, he picked up a wretched-looking blanket, and said,
"Well, good-day, gentlemen. I'm off to call on the Mayor of Portland and
a few rich friends of mine up there." He winked good-humouredly and
shambled off.

I met a lame young fellow near Jacksonville, who told me he had come all
the way from New York State, and was thinking of going back. He was in
very good spirits, and did not appear in the least dismayed at the
prospect of tramping 2000 miles, for he was one of those who do not use
the railroad and "beat their way." When I was at work in Sonoma County,
California, a little fellow came and worked for ten days, who once
travelled 200 miles inside the cowcatcher of an engine. Most English
people know the wedge-shaped pilot in front of the American engine well
enough by repute to recognise it. When the engine was in the yard over
the hollow track he crawled in, taking a board to sit on inside. When
the locomotive once ran out on the ordinary track it was impossible to
remove him, although the fireman soon discovered his presence there, and
poured some warm water over him. On coming to a little town about fifty
miles from his destination the constable came down to the train. "He
came," said Hub (that was our tramp's name) "to see that no tramps get
off there, or, if they did, to advise them to clear out. He walked to
the engine and said 'Good day' to the driver. 'Got any tramps on board
to-day, Jack?' he said. 'We've got one,' he answered; 'but we can't get
him off.' 'Why? how's that?' said the constable. 'Go and look at the
pilot.' So he came round and looked at me, and he burst into a laugh.
'All right, Jack,' says he, 'you can keep him. He won't trouble us, I
can see.' And with that he poked me with his stick, and called everyone
to take a