Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-05-12


service of a despised hobo,
Mot in to do but pound me ear while dc
oder guy cooks me peck" unused the irritat
ing Mike, speaking out loud He pulled one
of Bungs cigarettes while he unused.
Il no workee 70 you plenty long" said
Bung peevishly, bending over the fire.
"When | eat um chickee go.
Everything comes to de guy what waits
for de handout." said the tramp luxuriouslv.
SUPPER was ready about the time the
= yellow moon began to swing up over the
horizon. Mike the Pig ate with a will and a
sharp stick. He pronounced the meal set
down. a phrase meaning banquet in
Hoboese. But when Bung also sharpened a
stick and attempted to attack the feast.
Mike showed him to one side with no pre-
tense of gentleness.
Hired help don't eat wit de boss, he ex-
planned, as he dangled tempting morsel Of
white meat Despite his prejudice against
eating stolen food, Bung was ravenous for 4
share and plotted murder against this in
sulting glutton.
Finally Mike the Pig finished with deep
sigh and handed the can over to Bung, who,
after much exploration and fishing in the
gravy, was at last able to spear a portion OF
a carrot and the neck of the late Plymouth
Rock
Meanwhile, Mike the Pig stretched him
self full length in the sand and waXed rem-
niscent. Now, in one important particular
tramps and some physicians are alike. Both
love to beguile their leisure by Boosting OF
their operations on the human race. The
hobos skill is less costly to the patient.
perhaps but it is also much less likely to
bestow a benefit A hobo's fees are small;
but he always gets more than he deserves.
Mike the Pig, replete with slumgulion.
grew eloquent in praise of his own misdeeds.
According to his confession, he was a sort Of
peanut desperate, chicken-coop burglar,
a swindler without ingenuity, a criminal
without courage. Nothing seemed too mean
to claim his professional attentions He had
robbed roosts along the valley until his pal
ate tired of the taste of chicken. Disregard
ing Bungs evident unwillingness to listen.
he talked on and on, an idle man with an idle
tale to tell. He told of many raids upon
protected clothes lines; of how at midnight
he had lifted cans of milk from convenient
dairy yards; how he had poisoned a watch
dog here and there and set fire to an occa-
sional haystack as rebuke to inhabitants
who had failed to "come over with the hand
outs" He related with great comedy effect
how once, on a lonesome road, he had en-
countered drunken deaf-mute and robbed
the silent inebriate of nickel watch and
eighty-ive cents small change.
"Y' oughter hit the road wit me- said
Mike enthusiastically. Its great life"
@You velly smart man, agreed Bung
with apparent innocence. "Some day,
mebbe, you be President Unity States.
"Huh!" snorted Mike. Il wouldn't be
President I'd rather be what | am. A hobo
is free guy. He amt mixed up in gratis
and deals the way them politicians is.
"Yep. You velly fine man. Steal um
milk can, steal um chickee you no call that
glaft, mebbe?'
4Nixy, Chino! Dat amt graft. Bein' a
hobo, | know me rights. The void owes me
a Twin: when lift milk can here and
dere I'm only DRAWN me salary
Mike, in his complicated vocabulary,
went on to explain how he had beaten his
way fifteen hundred miles since winter had
broken his leg falling from brakebeam,
and had walked like a book agent on begging
expeditions.
"Dodgee work keep man velly busy, OBJ
served Bung.
ats a matter o principle wit me- said
the hobo. Il amt goin' to help none o them
capitalists by woikin' for EN-. Milky me,
Look de way dey travel round in golden gas
buggies, grindin de laborin man down into
the DUST"
"He glind plenty dust on you' said the