Jack London
The Road
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Table of contents
Confession
Holding Her Down
Pictures
"Pinched"
The Pen
Hoboes That Pass in the Night
Road-Kids and Gay-Cats
Two Thousand Stiffs
Bulls
"Speakin'
in general, I 'ave tried 'em all,The
'appy roads that take you o'er the world.Speakin'
in general, I 'ave found them goodFor
such as cannot use one bed too long,But
must get 'ence, the same as I 'ave done,An'
go observin' matters till they die."
—Sestina
of the Tramp-Royal
Confession
There
is a woman in the state of Nevada to whom I once lied continuously,
consistently, and shamelessly, for the matter of a couple of hours. I
don't want to apologize to her. Far be it from me. But I do want to
explain. Unfortunately, I do not know her name, much less her present
address. If her eyes should chance upon these lines, I hope she will
write to me.It
was in Reno, Nevada, in the summer of 1892. Also, it was fair-time,
and the town was filled with petty crooks and tin-horns, to say
nothing of a vast and hungry horde of hoboes. It was the hungry
hoboes that made the town a "hungry" town. They "battered"
the back doors of the homes of the citizens until the back doors
became unresponsive.A
hard town for "scoffings," was what the hoboes called it at
that time. I know that I missed many a meal, in spite of the fact
that I could "throw my feet" with the next one when it came
to "slamming a gate" for a "poke-out" or a
"set-down," or hitting for a "light piece" on the
street. Why, I was so hard put in that town, one day, that I gave the
porter the slip and invaded the private car of some itinerant
millionnaire. The train started as I made the platform, and I headed
for the aforesaid millionnaire with the porter one jump behind and
reaching for me. It was a dead heat, for I reached the millionnaire
at the same instant that the porter reached me. I had no time for
formalities. "Gimme a quarter to eat on," I blurted out.
And as I live, that millionnaire dipped into his pocket and gave me
... just ... precisely ... a quarter. It is my conviction that he was
so flabbergasted that he obeyed automatically, and it has been a
matter of keen regret ever since, on my part, that I didn't ask him
for a dollar. I know that I'd have got it. I swung off the platform
of that private car with the porter manoeuvring to kick me in the
face. He missed me. One is at a terrible disadvantage when trying to
swing off the lowest step of a car and not break his neck on the
right of way, with, at the same time, an irate Ethiopian on the
platform above trying to land him in the face with a number eleven.
But I got the quarter! I got it!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!