itted by our moralizer to be very
true.

"Howsomever," observed he, "all I know is this--that if the young dog
is not already a thief, I know that he has come to the right place to
become one."

"Aye, that he has," drawled out a half naked lusty young fellow,
raising himself slowly up from the form where he had been stretched
his full length, laying upon his face, the sluggard's favourite
position. Hogarth, or Joe Lisle, or any other character hunter, might
have taken this youth for the very Son of Idleness. There might
alternately be traced in his heavy features sluggard, loon, fool, and
rascal. "Aye, that's very true," he observed, "it was coming to St.
Giles's that was the ruin of me; and them there lasses," pointing to a
ruddy-faced girl, who had just popped her brazen front in at the door,
and who, in return for his salutation, politely placed her finger on
one side of her nose, then raising the hinder part of her body touched
it, in a style that would scarcely be tolerated at St. James's.

"Ah, you imp of Satan!" he bellowed out, as the young vixen scampered
away between a dance and a run, and again commenced his story:

"It was coming to St. Giles's, I was saying, was the ruin of me. I
robbed my father, but I got clear of that; then I robbed my mother, I
got turned away for that; my sisters took me in, I robbed them, and
was first to cut; at last, my aunt pitied and took care of me, I
robbed her too. But I got three month for that, and--"

"Hold your tongue, you ass," exclaimed half-a-dozen voices, "the
booby's mad, and should be sent to St. Luke's."

At this rebuff the hopeful youth grinned a grin something like the
triumph of a fool glorying in his shame; then thrusting his hand into
his bosom, was for a few moments lost in heavenly bliss, enjoying that
most ecstatic of enjoyments, which King Jamie, of clawing memory,
says, ought always to be reserved for kings--scratching; then rolled
himself down again, to have a little more folding of the arms, and a
little more slumber.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV.

A BEGGAR'S REPAST.

Our friend, who had such singular ideas in a cadging house of what
ought to be, was himself but one of those who existed by his wits. Two
pieces of leather hung round his feet and ankles, which for
resemblance came nearer to sandals than boots. The rest of his garb,
of course, corresponded.

We observed before, that, when he came in, he had his arms full of
good things