"Because he hasn't any hat."
The soldiers burst out laughing at the joke, which was recognized at once as very choice.
"Let's have a look," said a soldier, "at what the fellow is really carrying; don't discourage him. For my part, I don't find such delight in this beggarly guard-house that I despise any sort of fun that comes along."
"Fun?"
"Yes, any kind,--music perhaps. Every tramp in this region is a sort of troubadour. We'll make him sing what he knows, and a good deal he doesn't know; it will help pass the evening."
By this time the mendicant, now no longer an enigma to the soldiers, was close beside them, holding out his hand.
"You were right, corporal; he has got another man perched on his shoulders."
"I was wrong," responded the corporal.
"How so?"
"That isn't a man,-—only a section of humanity."