Two tramps have met up and are ambling along together discussing life, the universe, everything, and where the best places were to kip out of the rain, find an unattended bottle of milk and the like.
The younger tramp said "Feeling a bit hungry - aint done too well with the old begging today."
"Ah," says his more experienced companion. "Bet you bin asking for a few pennies or something haven't you - the old 'spare a few coppers, guv'nor' stuff, that right?"
"S'right", is the reply. "They getting real tight these days - won't hand over even a few coins 'cos they reckon I want it for drink. Means after I've got nuthin to buy grub with."
His companion shakes his head. "Course they think you're going to buy cheap cider and hang around shouting and stuff, making the place look untidy. What you want to do is harness the pity tendency and beg, not for cash, but directly for the food itself! That way they feel good about themselves."
"So how does it work, then?"
"I'll show you." He steps over to a small pile of, er, horse 'berries' in the road and picks up one lump. "With this I will get a hot meal when we get to those houses ahead. But when you try this one, remember that ordinary folk are the most generous. In my experience, you are better off missing out the posh places in case they call the police on you. Now, you hide in the bushes and watch and learn", he says.
While the younger tramp watches from his shrubby place of concealment, the senior gentleman of the road marches up to the door, horse lump clutched in one hand, and knocks quietly. The door opens and a lady looks nervously out. The tramp whips off his hat and smiles.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but I was wondering if you might spare a little salt and pepper." He holds up the horse lump. "I know it is awful, but it is all I have to eat and I was hoping that with a bit of seasoning I might be able to force it down...."
The woman is horrified and opens the door fully. "Oh, you poor man!" she cries. "I caouldn't possibly stand by while a fellow creature is in such straits! Throw that away and come in - there's a steak and kidney pie in the oven and we want you to share it with us - it is the Christian least we can do for a fellow being who has fallen on hard times!"
"Why, bless you ma'am, bless you!", the tramp says with a carefully calculated sob in his voice as he turns and throw the horse lump away, winking towards his hidden pal in the shrubbery before following the kind hearted lady into the brightly lit warm of her kitchen.
As the door shuts, the younger tramp extricates himself from the bushes. He is amazed and impressed. "Right!" he thinks, "I'm going to give it a go myself - but I reckon if it will work for steak and kidney pie, it'll work for luxury stuff! Heck wtih fiddling around with that cheap stuff - I'm going to try for a banquet and I reckon that mansion up ahead is just the place to get it!"
Selecting another lump of horse evidence, he marches throught the imposing wrought iron gates and scrunches along the gravelled drive to the front door of a large house, and he rings the bell. After a long minute or so the door creaks open and he finds himself being inspected by a posh looking lady - four row pearls, coco silk dress etc - who peers at him suspiciously over her pince-nez.
"Yes?" she drawls. "What do you want?"
He launches into his spiel. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but I was wondering if you might spare a little salt and pepper." He holds up the horse lump. "I know it is awful, but it is all I have to eat and I was hoping that with a bit of seasoning I might be able to force it down...."
The woman holds up her hand and stops him. "Young man, are you telling me you are proposing to eat...that?" she asks, pointing to the lump.
He nods, turning the pathetic look up a notch.
She shakes her head. "I think we can do better than that!" she says.
He hides his grin. A result!
"Definiitely we can!" she goes on. "Throw that away for heaven's sake! Go round to the stables behind the house and get yourself a warm piece!"
The door shuts.