English Tramps And Their Babies

On arriving at York we went at onee to Warnigate, the kiphcrase district, and picked out the filthiest one we could flnd. The inmates were principally in pairs. Each moocher had his July (wife), and each little kid had his little Moll (sister). These children are the very offspring of the road, and they remind me very much of monkeys. Yet one has to feel sorry for them, since they did not ask for life and yet are compelled to see its meanest and dirtiest side. Their mothers love them, when they are not drunk, and when they are their fathers have to play mothers, if they are not drunk themselves. Never in my life have I seen a more serio comic situation than in that York kipüouse, where two tramps were rocking their habies to sleep. Moochers - bohemians of the bohemians - fondling their babies ! I should far i eooner have looked for a New York hobo in clergyrnan's robes. But tramping with children and babies is a f ad in