A Tramp’s Diary.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 5009, 17 May 1889, Page 3

A Tramp’s Diary.

In the pocket of a man convicted of larceny in tho Tyneside Police Court a diary has been discovered which contains a minute record of the owner’s experiences. After describing how on one night he slept on the sands, and on another contrived to hide and find a night’s lodging in a pew in church, tho diarist notes day by day his attempts to get casual employment, with varying success, at the docks and elsewhere. On one occasion, ho appears to have had the good fortune to bo engaged by some engineers aboard ship for several days, for which he received 15s. With part of this ho purchased a cap, a scarf, and a pair of shoes at a cobbler’s. The diarist then continues os follows ;

Tuesday, 7 a.m., off to Ibe docks once more ; if I could only get another berth like that, but I don’t; spend .10d for grub and 9d for bed. Wednesday, same old round, and nothing to do ; spend 8d on tuck and 9d bed. Thursday do., do., etc. ; expended Is sd. Friday, do., do., Is sd. Saturday, things look blue; Is. Sunday, bed till 12 a.m., got nothing to eat. Bible class at 2.30 ; church at 6.30 ; bed at 9 30 ; beastly hungry ; what a lot of money beds cost—my last 9d—left with a halfpenny. Monday, 6 a.m., halfpenny pot of coffee, and off to the docks ; I feel famishing; get some ship biscuits on board one of the boats, and that's all for two days ; walk about all night. Tuesday, 8 a.m., chop sticks for a woman until ! 2, and got 3d for it —mean old screw bought some breakfast; no more till 8 p.m. ; carry a portmanteau and get a bob ; trust the man ; clover that night. Wednesday, 7 a.m., went to the dock hopeless ; to—station, carried two loads, Is 6d ; grub, 8d ; bed, 9J. Thursday, 6 a.m., up to dock ; no work ; got a meal on board of one of the boats at 9 o’clock ; got some biscuits at 3 o’clock ; no more grub j no more work ; no bed to-night; no breakfast in the morning. . . . I’m dreading Sunday. Friday, 2,30 am.,crossed in ferry, and knocked about the quay till 7 o’clock, then went into the S.H. office ; then up to dock ; just as bad here, not oven a biscuit to be had. I suppose if they knew how bad 1 wanted it' they might give me one, but they dont ; Ihink they cant surely know or they would not refuse me. How shall I get this weekend over. I’ll not go to the workhouse, if I starve in the street, and I don’t know of a single friend to turn to. I wish to God I was dead, and it was all finished with me. I’m sick of the fight. Honesty, charity, love of fellow men! Why don’t they preach a substantial bodily sermon to poor devils hko us ; and I suppose I’ll have to go and put in another Sunday in Church for the sake of a seat and to gel warm. I feel as if I could bite the throat out of some of the fat, greasy, self satisfied looking brutes as they 101 l in and out of church. Last Sunday, when they went sailing past mo and I thought of all the good things they would have, I hated them, every one. Surely some of them might have seen how hungry I was. I felt faint and sick enough, if I didn’t look it. Perhaps I glowered over hard at them when they did look. However, i got ore* it, aud suppose I’ll get

over this; doesn’t much matter if I don’t, nobody seems to care much what I do or where I go. If I only Lad my life over again from the time father died, bow differently I would have done. O, for only one of my lost chances, my wasted opportunities. But what’s the use ? I guess I’ll have to drive through this and worse before I’m out of the rotten hole.