My reasons for undertaking the ungenteel expedition may be stated in a few words. It is tolerably well known that our fields of human industry are curiously prolific of weeds, picturesque at times, perhaps, but always unprofitable. About the hives where bees cheerfully toil, idle drones loaf idly all their lives, contributing to the commonwealth neither wax nor honey, but ever alert to obtain by hook or by crook as much of both as serves to keep them fat and comfortable in their laziness. These are of the tramp tribe.
Vagabonds born and bred for the most part; free rovers, who resent and despise the trammels of civilisation and responsibilities thereto pertaining, and willingly endure the hardships of highway journey-work, and take their chance of fair or foul weather, food good or bad, plentiful or scanty; taking, just as it may happen, the lodging under a house-roof and in a bed, or beneath a hedge, with the dewy grass for a cold counterpane, and all for the pleasure of indulging in unlimited liberty of much the same kind as falls to the lot of an able-bodied homeless dog.
James Greenwood, On Tramp