“I guess every country has their characters like that. I read about one called the Red Snake, down in Australia. This feller killed a snake and brought it home and hung it up. He went away from the house again, and the mate to that snake follered his trail in the meantime, and come in the house and killed his wife and child. When he come home and found them, he went kind of crazy. He went out and started looking for that snake, traveled all over Australia killing every snake he saw. That’s the way he spent his life. Just travelin’ from one place to the other, beggin’ his food and killin’ snakes.
“You know there’s somethin’ about that kind of a life that some people can’t resist. Once they start trampin’ they’re never no good for nothin’ else. That’s why you’ll always have tramps. Some people have that urge, but they fight it.
“There was a feller herein town years ago used to be a painter. In his spare time he used to walk all over the backroads. Me and my father used to meet him all over the county when we was out drivin’. I suppose people who seen that feller trampin’ along would think he was a regular hobo. And maybe he woulda been, if he’d follered his inclinations.
“Well I’d never make a tramp, because I don’t care enough about walkin’. I’m going downtown now, but I’m not goin’ to walk. You want a lift?