In conversation he always appeared to descend only half way down a
long moral and intellectual staircase, and always delivered his
conclusions over the balusters.
I had been speaking of my friend, the Tramp. "There is but one way
of treating that class of impostors; it is simply to recognize the
fact that the law calls him a 'vagrant,' and makes his trade a
misdemeanor. Any sentiment on the other side renders you particeps
criminis. I don't know but an action would lie against you for
encouraging tramps. Now, I have an efficacious way of dealing with
these gentry." He rose and took a double-barreled fowling-piece
from the chimney. "When a tramp appears on my property, I warn him
off. If he persists, I fire on him--as I would on any criminal
trespasser."
"Fire on him?" I echoed in alarm.
"Yes--BUT WITH POWDER ONLY! Of course HE doesn't know that. But
he doesn't come back."
It struck me for the first time that possibly many other of my
friend's arguments might be only blank cartridges, and used to
frighten off other trespassing intellects.
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