"You've come a long way," he suggested.
"Oh, about the same as usual," replied the Tramp, as though all
distances and localities were one to him.
"Which means--?"
"From nowhere, and from everywhere."
"And you are going on to--?"
"Always the same place."
"Which is--?"
"The end." He said it in a rumbling voice that seemed to issue from a
pocket of the torn old coat rather than from his bearded mouth.
"Oh, dear," sighed Judy, "that is a _very_ long way indeed. But, of
course, you never get tired out?" Her eyes were brimmed with
admiration.
He shrugged his great loose shoulders. It was odd how there seemed to
be another thing within all that baggy clothing and behind the hair.
The shaggy exterior covered a slimmer thing that was happy, laughing,
dancing to break out. "Not tired out," he said, "a bit sleepy
sometimes, p'r'aps." He glanced round him carelessly, his strange eyes
resting finally on Judy's face. "But there's lots of beds about," he
explained to her, "once you know how to make 'em."
"Yes," the child murmured, with a kind of soft applause, "of course
there must be."
"And those wot sleeps in ditches dreams the sweetest--that _I_ know.
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