Page 220 - down-and-out-in-paris-and-london

gregation and so were not afraid of them. A man receiving
charity practically always hates his benefactor—it is a fixed
characteristic of human nature; and, when he has fifty or a
hundred others to back him, he will show it.
In the evening, after the free tea, Paddy unexpectedly
earned another eighteenpence at ‘glimming’. It was exactly
enough for another night’s lodging, and we put it aside and
went hungry till nine the next evening. Bozo, who might
have given us some food, was away all day. The pavements
were wet, and he had gone to the Elephant and Castle, where
he knew of a pitch under shelter. Luckily I still had some to-
bacco, so that the day might have been worse.
At half past eight Paddy took me to the Embankment,
where a clergyman was known to distribute meal tickets
once a week. Under Charing Cross Bridge fifty men were
waiting, mirrored in the shivering puddles. Some of them
were truly appalling specimens—they were Embankment
sleepers, and the Embankment dredges up worse types than
the spike. One of them, I remember, was dressed in an over-
coat without buttons, laced up with rope, a pair of ragged
trousers, and boots exposing his toes—not a rag else. He
was bearded like a fakir, and he had managed to streak his
chest and shoulders with some horrible black filth resem-
bling train oil. What one could see of his face under the dirt
and hair was bleached white as paper by some malignant
disease. I heard him speak, and he had a goodish accent, as
of a clerk or shopwalker.
Presently the clergyman appeared and the men ranged
themselves in a queue in the order in which they had ar-

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