Page 226 - down-and-out-in-paris-and-london

hanged, escaped, captured the judge who had sentenced
him, and (splendid fellow!) hanged him. The tramps liked
the story, of course, but the interesting thing was to see that
they had got it all wrong. Their version was that Gilderoy
escaped to America, whereas in reality he was recaptured
and put to death. The story had been amended, no doubt de-
liberately; just as children amend the stories of Samson and
Robin Hood, giving them happy endings which are quite
imaginary.
This set the tramps talking about history, and a very old
man declared that the ‘one bite law’ was a survival from
days when the nobles hunted men instead of deer. Some
of the others laughed at him, but he had the idea firm in
his head. He had heard, too, of the Corn Laws, and the JUS
PRIMAE NOCTIS (he believed it had really existed); also
of the Great Rebellion, which he thought was a rebellion
of poor against rich—perhaps he had got it mixed up with
the peasant rebellions. I doubt whether the old man could
read, and certainly he was not repeating newspaper articles.
His scraps of history had been passed from generation to
generation of tramps, perhaps for centuries in some cases.
It was oral tradition lingering on, like a faint echo from the
Middle Ages.
Paddy and I went to the spike at six in the evening, get-
ting out at ten in the morning. It was much like Romton
and Edbury, and we saw nothing of the ghost. Among the
casuals were two young men named William and Fred, ex-
fishermen from Norfolk, a lively pair and fond of singing.
They had a song called ‘Unhappy Bella’ that is worth writ-