was not advisable to commit a robbery or do
anything which could bring you to the gallows. He was all for petty
larceny, and knew where to put his hand upon any little thing in England,
which it was possible to steal. I submit it to the better judgment of
the Romany Rye, who I see is a great hand for words and names, whether he
ought not to have been called old Filcher, instead of Fulcher. I shan't
give a regular account of the larcenies which he committed during the
short time I knew him, either alone by himself, or with me and his son.
I shall merely relate the last.

'A melancholy gentleman, who lived a very solitary life, had a large carp
in a shady pond in a meadow close to his house: he was exceedingly fond
of it, and used to feed it with his own hand, the creature being so tame
that it would put its snout out of the water to be fed when it was
whistled to; feeding and looking at his carp were the only pleasures the
poor melancholy gentleman possessed. Old Fulcher--being in the
neighbourhood, and having an order from a fishmonger for a large fish,
which was wanted at a great city dinner, at which His Majesty was to be
present--swore he would steal the carp, and asked me to go with him. I
had heard of the gentleman's fondness for his creature, and begged him to
let it be, advising him to go and steal some other fish; but old Fulcher
swore, and said he would have the carp, although its master should hang
himself; I told him he might go by himself, but he took his son and stole
the carp, which weighed seventeen pounds. Old Fulcher got thirty
shillings for the carp, which I afterwards heard was much admired and
relished by His Majesty. The master, however, of the carp, on losing his
favourite, became more melancholy than ever, and in a little time hanged
himself. "What's sport for one, is death to another," I once heard at
the village-school read out of a copy-book.

'This was the last larceny old Fulcher ever committed. He could keep his
neck always out of the noose, but he could not always keep his leg out of
the trap. A few nights after, having removed to a distance, he went to
an osier car in order to steal some osiers for his basket-making, for he
never bought any. I followed a little way behind. Old Fulcher had
frequently stolen osiers out of the car, whilst in the neighbourhood, but
during his absence the property, of which the car was part, had been let
to a young gentleman, a great hand for prese