There is a fair number of American adventurers in the European cities who live by searching out their country-men as fast as they arrive and making loans more or less small. These fellows watch the hotel registers and the lists of strangers in the newspapers, and their methods of conducting their operations are numerous and varied. London and Paris contain more of them than any other cities, and perhaps London has a greater number than its French rival. One of the most ingenious devices for fleecing the stranger was adopted by an American who lived some years in Paris; he had no patent upon it, and as he is dead now anyone who chooses may take it up. It was as follows:—
He operated around the Grand Hotel, and other resorts of Americans, and managed to make himself acquainted with as many new-comers as possible. He was particular in cultivating anyone to give his card and ask that of the stranger, and to ascertain at what hotel the latter was stopping. Immediately they separated he called at the hotel in question and left his card, so that the stranger would be impressed with his new-found friend. Then the next morning about eight o'clock a messenger would come in great haste with a note from the swindler, which ran about like this:—
"Dear Sir:—I regret to inform you that I have been run over by an omnibus, and while I was insensible my pocket was picked of all the money I had about me. You may not be aware that in this country a man who gets run over is fined for being in the way; I am at the police-station of the 12th arrondisement, and they refuse to let me go till I pay fifty francs. As I cannot draw money at my banker's at this hour of the morning, I venture to ask a favor of you. I beg that you will oblige me by sending fifty francs by the bearer, and as soon as the banks open I will go to my banker's and get the money to return to you immediately. You can expect me a few minutes past ten o'clock, and I shall hope to find you in. In case you are gone out I will leave the money with the concierge."
The appeal was so reasonable that many a stranger was taken in. The swindler endeavored to keep out of the way of his victim, but if met and interrogated he always declared that he left the money with the concierge, and the latter had doubtless pocketed it. He thrived for a while, but at length the gentle but firm hand of the police was laid upon him, and he was forced to emigrate. The Continental police are apt to interfere with schemes of this sort, and an enterprising man has little chance among them.
The only successful traveler without money is of the class usually designated as the "tramp." He has increased in numbers in the last few years till there is altogether too many of him; so much is this the case that several of the state legislatures have been compelled to pass laws for his suppression, and thus his operations have been greatly curtailed. But in the states where no laws have been made against him he flourishes in all his glory; he generally lives well by begging at kitchen doors, or at houses along the country roads, and he is satisfied with lodgings in a barn or under a haystack. In summer he traverses the country, and in winter the cold drives him to the city, where he stays till the trees bud and blossom again, and the robin sings in the orchards. Then he returns again to the country, and so he goes on from year to year, unwilling to accept honest employment, and giving no equivalent for his support. It is his evident impression that the world owes him a living, and the only duty devolving upon him is to collect the debt.
During the World's fair at Paris in 1867, one of the London papers published a scheme whereby a man could spend three days at the Exposition for 50 francs. It was something like the following:—
| fr. c. | |
| Lodging three nights at 3 francs per night, | 9 00 |
| Breakfast three days at a Duval restaurant, at 1 fr. 50 c., | 4 50 |
| Omnibus to Exposition, at 50 c., | 1 50 |
| Admission to Exposition, 1 fr. daily, | 3 00 |
| Lunch and glass of beer, 2 fr. 50 c. daily, | 7 50 |
| Return from Exposition, same as going there, | 1 50 |
| Dinner, with wine, at Duval restaurant or Table d' Hote, 4 fr. daily, | 12 00 |
| Theatre in the evening (gallery), 3 fr., | 9 00 |
| Extras, | 2 00 |
| Total, | 50 00 |
A Paris paper, a few days later, made an improvement on the above, and showed how a man could spend three days at the Exposition for nothing. This is the way it was done:—
| Lodging three nights at police stations, 00 per night, | 00 |
| Breakfast at hydrant, three times, 00 each time, | 00 |
| Ride to Exposition by hanging on steps of omnibus, | 00 |
| Admission, make a bundle of your coat and enter as an exhibitor, | 00 |
| Lunch, similar to breakfast with addition of samples, obtained in the alimentary section of the Exposition, | 00 |
| Return same way as going, | 00 |
| Dinner at hydrant with remains of lunch, | 00 |
| Theatre in evening, beg a check from somebody leaving, | 00 |
| Total, | 00 |
It would be difficult to find a cheaper system than this, though it is on record that once during a period of steamship opposition between San Francisco and Oregon, the Pacific Mail Steamship Company advertised a free passage and a chromo to anybody who wished to make the voyage. A hundred or more of the impecunious ones of San Francisco thought it would be a good opportunity to go to Oregon and back for nothing, and have a week's board, and so they took passage. Nothing was said about the return; the opposition company made terms with the Pacific Mail just as the steamer reached Portland, and the old rates of fare were at once established. The majority of the tourists had great difficulty in getting home again, and some of them became permanent residents of the region to which they had unintentionally emigrated.