Tensas gazette. [volume] (St. Joseph, La.) 1886-current, 1911-07-21

OF him. though you know
tom cats. wild cats and fem
mime cats" He is an in.
teresting combination, and his spe-
cies is numbered by thousands He is
halftramp. availing himself of all the
hobo's expedients for gadding about
the world without paying for his trav.
els, and mailman with trade. the
goal of whose rambles is always Job
He has all the "bum's" philosophical
contempt for the man so easy" as to
ride the velvet" which means to pay
railroad fare. But he also incurs the
buns" astonished disdain because OF
his :ncorrigible habit OF looking for
work.
I'VE travel from wanderlust. from
love of adventure" explained an ex.
gay cat" who had joined the home
guard" OF those who have ceased from
rambling. when I was a youth
wanted to see the country. and see II
right. ! wanted excitement I had q
good trade and was living at home,
but the lure of the road called me.
Il could have paid car fare and rid.
den in the railway cars. but you can't
see the country that way. What man
looking through the windows Of Pull.
man car. knows anything about the
regions through which ne has passed
You must travel few hours at a time,
on a slow freight. and be thrown of
at the most unexpected places by
brakemen. to see the country. You
want to mooch (beg) a handout at
backdoors to get acquainted with peo-
Pile. You even learn something when
some fly mug (detective) gets SO cor
dial that he insists on your staying In
his midst for 80 days-on the rock
pile. What dude In palace car can
learn as much about his native land
as did in IA years as a gay cat'?"
The Wanderlust Never Dies.
This man was miner by trade. and
had followed the profession from
Pennsylvania to California. and from
California TO Alaska. He never begged
save In an emergency of hunger, and
usually had $1,000 or so tucked away
in bank in this city or that But It
was only after many years of wander
ing as knight errant OF the pickax
and shovel that the wanderlust OF his
youth was quenched and he settled
down to be prosaic hotel clerk.
In the shabby sitting room of 10
cent lodging house In ST. Louis there
lounged recently half dozen weather
beaten and hardy men. self-confident
Of mien and monosyilabic OF speech.
In their short words was none Of the
whine Of the professional beggar. and
in their straightforward look was moth
ing Of the hangdog. They had frav-
eled to most Of the countries OF the
globe. and. ignorant Of alien languages
and customs. had supported them
selves by the sole resource OF their
own hands. They were confident OF
taking care of themselves in any stu
alton.
Who would have thought that the
squalid parlor. into which the warm
sun filtered. was a place Of dreams1
But so II was. The taciturn little En-
glishman in the corner. who was born
in South Africa. was gazing into space
upon the yellow corn fields OF the Ar
gentine Republic. upon construction
camps In the Andes. and upon broad
roads leading by gentle stages through
the pampas from one hospitable ranch
to the next. Aroused from his artic-
ulate vision by a question. he stated
in a matter-of-fact way that he would
be in Argentine next fall.
The booted. gigantic Swede was
thinking of logging camps In Mime