The Surprising Narration of Robert Holt

CHAPTER I

OUTSIDE


'No room!--Full up!'

He banged the door in my face.

That was the final blow.

To have tramped about all day looking for work; to have begged
even for a job which would give me money enough to buy a little
food; and to have tramped and to have begged in vain,--that was
bad. But, sick at heart, depressed in mind and in body, exhausted
by hunger and fatigue, to have been compelled to pocket any little
pride I might have left, and solicit, as the penniless, homeless
tramp which indeed I was, a night's lodging in the casual ward,--
and to solicit it in vain!--that was worse. Much worse. About as
bad as bad could be.

I stared, stupidly, at the door which had just been banged in my
face. I could scarcely believe that the thing was possible. I had
hardly expected to figure as a tramp; but, supposing it
conceivable that I could become a tramp, that I should be refused
admission to that abode of all ignominy, the tramp's ward, was to