Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1905-08-29
MEN WHO ARE ALWAYS LOOKING
FOR WORK AND PRAYING THEY
WILL NOT FIND 1T.
Many Methods of Graft = Hobo is
On the Retired List When He Lcses
An Arm or Leg = The Man With
the Broken Neck.


IN Ottumwa' that the police have TAX
en- drastic measures to rid the city of
his presence as much as possible.
There comes time in the life of
many a hobo when he quits looking
for work; that is when he retires.
hobo becomes a retired hobo
when ne tries to ride the rods of a
freight car some day, with too big a
swallow aboard, miscalculates the
speed of the moving train, falls under
the wheels and then wakes up later
in hospital to find that leg or an
arm is missing.
To be sure. such an accident is not
one to be particularly desired. but af-
ter it has once happened it puts the
man on the retired list as true hobo
and gives him peculiar place in the
ranks of those to whom the world is
supposed to owe living and who are
doing their best to collect it,
One of these unfortunates-or for
tunaIes as they choose to call them
selves-in discussing his methods of
living said
Il retired when got my leg cut
off by freight train bound south from
FIT. Wayne; since then I've been TAX
ing life easy. It's mighty hard work
going about forever looking for work,
and It's just like sliding off a park
bench when you're dead asleep to live
in retirement, like the rich fellers
who've got all the graft they want. Only
they live off of what they say is their
own money when they retire, while
we retired hobos live off other peoples
money and are honest enough to say
so. And say, that's the easiest thing
to do that l know anything about"
The majority of the retired hobos"
frankly admit that most of their
money is made in ways which are de-
cidedly irregular, but they are rather
proud of the wact and argue that
well-worked graft is as much to be
admired in 'keen-witted hobo, as is
the same thing on larger scale when
manipulated by frenzied financier
Their Many Methods of Graft.
Many are the neat methods which
these men can relate for swindling the
sympathetic and easily duped public,
and many Of them boast of tricks which
have duDed even the most sophisti-
Gated.
The hobo who is minus a leg often
Increases his crippled appearance by
binding one arm fast to his side and
thus seeming doubly worthy of pity.
There is wonderful appeal in an
empty sleeve, and especially if it is
the right arm which is apparently
missing, the beggar will have the fell
Ing Of millionaire at the end of the
day, for the right arm is supposed to
be everybody's best.
Once in while a beginner at the
business makes the mistake of binding
his left arm to his side and waits in
vain for pity, but usually he soon dis
covers wherein lies his error. Or, some
Nnd-nearted comrade shows him his
mistake, and he begins setting 'em
up right away.
One Hobo's Experience.
A recent member of this brother
hood of cripples related a method,
however, which for originality and
un1queness far surpasses this worn
out scheme. This quick-witted hobo
had serious fall down a flight of
stairs and tells his experience as fol.
lows. He says:
i lit on the back of my head and
the next thing l knew l was in Bell
view hospital, with a half-dozen doc
tors bending over me and saying
Wonderful! Broken neck, and living,
too! and such things. In little while
| found out what all the fuss was
about-nly neck was swollen twice it's
natural size. and my head was hang
ing down on my chest, and | couldn't
hold 1t up when | tried
We'll, they held one clinic after an
other over me. All the time the doc
tors-theyre young fellers in Bellville,
just out of college-keDt saying my
neck was broken, and jabbered away
about ver-vertebray fit to kill But all the
time the pain was leaving me and so
was the stiffness, and knew that my
neck wasn't broken any more than
theirs. l was getting a clean bed and all
the food I could eat for nothing. I
wasn't going to kill a good thing until
| had too, so l kept right on letting my
head fall on my chest after | was
able to hold it up in good style And
every time a doctor would hold up
my head and | would let it flop down,
he'd be more dead certain than ever
that my neck was broken, and l was
living wonder
Things went on this way for about
eight weeks, with clinics every day
or so. Then one day the doctors put
a makeshift brace on my head and
gave me letter and told me to show
it at the hospital for ruptured and Grip
pied, and the doctors there would fit
me with sure thing in the brace line.
For a minute or two thought my
graft was at an end for sure, then l
thought of my friend, Joe Schmidt,
who keeps saloon and stakes hoboes
when they want to play the 'phony'
jewelry game. l went to him and
showed him the letter.
Jim he haid, this is the chance
of your life. And he took me around
to worker in iron and brass he
knew and he made me brace for my
head that fitted as nice as you please,
Joe paying him $50 for the job.
Brace is Stolen.
Then pasted my letter from the
Re11yjau on nioca of cb