Says Moufet, in his Theater of Insects: “Plutarch, in his Artaxerxes, relates that it was a law amongst a certain people, that whosoever should be so bold as to laugh at and deride their lawes and constitutions of state, was bound for twenty daies together in an open chest naked, all besmeared with honey and milk, and so became a prey to the Flies and Bees, afterward when the days were expired he was put into a woman’s habit and thrown headlong down a mountain.... Of which kinde of punishment also Suidas makes mention in his Epicurus. There was likewise for greater offenders, a punishment of Boats, so called. For that he that was convict of high treason, was clapt between two boats, with his head, hands, and feet hanging out: for his drink he had milk and honey powred down his throat, with which also his head and hands were sprinkled, then being set against the sun, he drew to him abundance of stinging Flies, and within being full of their worms, he putrefied by little and little, and so died. Which kinde of examples of severity as the ancients shewed to the guilty and criminous offenders; so on the other side the Spaniards in the Indies, used to drive numbers of the innocents out of their houses, as the custome is among them, naked, all bedawbed with honey, and expose them in open air to the biting of most cruel Flies.”[1005] Mr. Henry Mayhew, in that part of his interesting work on London Labor and London Poor devoted to the London Street-folk, has given us the narratives of several “Catch-’em-Alive” sellers--a set of poor boys who sell prepared papers for the purpose of catching Flies. He discovered, as he relates, a colony of these “Catch-’em-alive” boys residing in Pheasant-court, Gray’s-inn-lane. They were playing at “pitch-and-toss” in the middle of the paved yard, and all were very willing to give him their statements; indeed, the only difficulty he had was in making his choice among the youths. “Please, sir,” said one with teeth ribbed like celery, to him, “I’ve been at it longer than him.” “Please, sir, he ain’t been out this year with the papers,” said another, who was hiding a handful of buttons behind his back. “He’s been at shoe-blacking, sir; I’m the only reg’lar fly-boy,” shouted a third, eating a piece of bread as dirty as London snow. A big lad with a dirty face, and hair like hemp, was the first of the “catch-’em-alive” boys who gave him his account of his trade. He was a swarthy featured boy, with a broad nose like a negro’s, and on his temple was a big half-healed scar, which he accounted for by saying that “he had been runned over” by a cab, though, judging from the blackness of one eye, it seemed to Mr. Mayhew to have been the result of some street fight. He said: