“ON HIS UPPERS.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXI, Issue 449, 23 January 1909, Page 3

“ON HIS UPPERS.

— A Colonial Stranded In

London

Some of His Experiences.

I had a peculiar experience a few days ago (writes the London correspondent of the Dunedin Star). Crossing Trafalgar-square at a time when London is as much asleep as ever it is, I ran across a weary and somewhat dilapidated creature stamping his feet to keep them warm. As the glare of the street lamps fell on liis face, I was startled to recognise the features of a man once well-known to many in your city. The recognition was mutual, and I stopped to inquire the reason for his appearance in the Square in such a .plight at that hour. He turned his trousers pockets inside out, and the contents were’a stump ot lead pencil and an ancient'tobacco pouch. Then be spoke: “ I haven’t a ‘ sou ’in the world. Last night I walked the Embankment, and slept on a seat at intervals. The night before I slept in a lodging-house. Really, I prefer the simple life out of doors ; it’s cold, but clean.”

“ What! Wasn’t the lodging house clean ? thought they were well looked after by the L.C.C., and had to bekept fairly decent,” said I. ‘‘ On,” he replied, “ I’m not grumbling at the place itself ; it’s the people. Man, they are simply beasts—helpless, hopeless beasts ! I’d sooner ‘ pig in ’ with savages than spend another night among such creatures. Their habits are worse than awful, and the language is a mixture of filthy expletives and expectoration. . . . You can’t talk to them, for they haven’t an idea in their heads that isn’t associated with their bellies and their grosser appetities. My night there was a nightmare!” He didn’t whine about his own fate, and seemed more deeply concerned about the awful lives led by the “4d dossers,” whom he really seemed to pity more than he did the unhappy creatures with whom he had come into contact on these nights when his own 4d was not.

We walked down the Embankment, and saw some of the miserables there. “ Nice prospect for me,” said he, pointing to a decrepit, white-haired old fellow huddled up on one of the seats. “ He’s been in a good position—’Varsity man, brilliant in his day, and now he’s That!”

And truly it seems quite likely that the man who pointed at the human rag-bag on the seat will become even as ” That ” if he lives. H 2 is clever enough to make a good living, but apparently has no aptitude tor contiuued work, and cannot be trusted to tulfil any commission he undertakes- For mouths past he has dona, it seems, only a little journalistic odd jobbing, and the few guineas he has earned have not, I fear, gone to promote the cause of temperance. When last 1 saw him prior to our meeting in Trafalgar-square he was, so far as outward and visible signs may prove, in, if not “ clover,” at least not in straits. Now he is a chronic “ hard-up,” and does not disguise the fact that he spends a large part of his time in “ raising the price of a meal ” from those he has known in the years gone by. Yet, it would seem, he never really asks for money, neither has he as yet assimilated the whine of the professional mendicant. - He tells the tale of his downfall with brutal frankness, and leaves you to respond as your heart dictates. He has become a vagabond, but a cheery one withal, and though he has sampled the dregs of poverty and lived amongst the vilest scum of the metropolis, his sense of decency in certain directions is as acute as ever. The habits and language of the “ qd dossers ” give him “ the creeps ” just as quickly as in the days when things were different. Otherwise he appears to be an utterly impossible person—one of those hopeless cases who respond to yout efforts to lift them out of the mire by dropping deeper into it than ever the moment the supporting hand is withdrawn. The last I saw of the Man Who Had Been was at a coffee stall not far from Blackfriars. He was indulging in a cup of coffee and a lump of cake. The “ pubs ’’ had all closed long before.