Far different is the luminous and varied Western
swearing, which runs to blasphemy rather than indecency. And after all,
since men will swear, I think I prefer blasphemy to indecency; there is
an audacity about it, an adventurousness and defiance that is better than
sheer filthiness.
There was one American tramp royal whom I found particularly enjoyable. I
first noticed him on the street, asleep in a doorway, his head on his
knees, but a hat on his head that one does not meet this side of the
Western Ocean. When the policeman routed him out, he got up slowly and
deliberately, looked at the policeman, yawned and stretched himself,
looked at the policeman again as much as to say he didn't know whether he
would or wouldn't, and then sauntered leisurely down the sidewalk. At
the outset I was sure of the hat, but this made me sure of the wearer of
the hat.
In the jam inside I found myself alongside of him, and we had quite a
chat. He had been through Spain, Italy, Switzerland, and France, and had
accomplished the practically impossible feat of beating his way three
hundred miles on a French railway without being caught at the finish.
Where was I hanging out? he asked. And how did I manage for
"kipping"?--which means sleeping.
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