ntry lane; he goes along with slouching gait and halting steps;
he has no boots worthy of the name, his tattered trousers, much too
long, give us glimpses of his flesh. He wears an old frock-coat that
hangs almost to his heels, and a cloth cap, greasy and worn, upon
his head. His beard is wild and abundant, and his hair falls upon his
shoulders in a way worthy of an artist or poet.

Follow him, but not too closely, and you will find it hard to keep up
with him, he knows what he is making for. Neither George Borrow nor
Runciman would hold him for a week, for George would want to stop and
talk, but this fellow is silent and grim. A lazar house draws him on,
and he needs must reach it, weak and ill-fed though he is! And he will
reach others too, for he is on a circular tour. But next winter
will find him in a Westminster lodging-house if he has luck, on the
Embankment if he has not.

He has an easy philosophy: "All the things in the world belong to all
the men in the world," is his outspoken creed, so he steals when he can,
and begs when he cannot steal.

But think of this life when women share it, and children are born into
it, and lads and lassies are on the tramp. Dare we think of it? We dare
not! If we did, it would not be tolerated for a day. Neither dare I
write about it, for there are many things that cannot be written. So I
leave imagination to supply what words must not convey.

But it is all so pitiful, it is too much for me, for sometimes I feel
that I am living with them, tramping with them, sleeping with them,
eating with them; I am become as one of them. I feel the horror, yet I
do not realise the charms.

I am an Englishman! I love liberty! I must be free, or die! I want to
order my own life, to control my own actions, to run on my own lines;
I would that all men should have similar rights. But, alas! it cannot
be--civilisation claims and enchains us; we have to submit to its
discipline, and it is well that it should be so. We do not, cannot live
to ourselves, and for ourselves. Those days have long passed, and for
ever. Orderly life and regular duties are good for us, and necessary for
the well-being of the nation.

A strong robust: nation demands and requires a large amount of freedom,
and this it must have, or perish! The individual man, too, requires a
fair amount if he is to be a man. But we may, and we do in some things
extend freedom beyond the legitimate bounds. For in a country of limited
are