devoted lad to the care of the females. Some few of the individuals seated at the other tables seemed to take an interest in the proceedings of Blueskin and his party, just as a bystander watches any other game; but, generally speaking, the company were too much occupied with their own concerns to pay attention to anything else. The assemblage was for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to present much of novelty, in whatever form it was exhibited. Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. Near to these hopeful youths sat a fence, or receiver, bargaining with a clouter, or pickpocket, for a _suit_,--or, to speak in more intelligible language, a watch and seals, two _cloaks_, commonly called watch-cases, and a _wedge-lobb,_ otherwise known as a silver snuff-box. Next to the receiver was a gang of housebreakers, laughing over their exploits, and planning fresh depredations; and next to the housebreakers came two gallant-looking gentlemen in long periwigs and riding-dresses, and equipped in all other respects for the road, with a roast fowl and a bottle of wine before them. Amid this varied throng,--varied in appearance, but alike in character,--one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. Sheppard's attention; and no sooner did she in some degree recover from the shock occasioned by the sight of her son's debased condition, than, regardless of any other consideration except his instant removal from the contaminating society by which he was surrounded, and utterly forgetting the more cautious plan she meant to have adopted, she rushed into the room, and summoned him to follow her. “Halloa!” cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,--“who's that?” “Your mother,” replied Mrs. Sheppard. “Come home directly, Sir.” “Mother be----!” returned Jack. “Who is it, Bess?” “How should I know?” replied Edgeworth Bess. “But if it _is_ your mother, send her about her business.” “That I will,” replied Jack, “in the twinkling of a bedpost.” “Glad to see you once more in the Mint, Mrs. Sheppard,” roared Blueskin, who anticipated some fun. “Come and sit down by me.” “Take a glass of gin, Ma'am,” cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; “it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard.” “Jack, my love,” cried Mrs. Sheppard, disregarding the taunt, “come away.” “Not I,” replied Jack; “I'm too comfortable where I am. Be off!” “Jack!” exclaimed his unhappy parent. “Mr. Sheppard, if you please, Ma'am,” interrupted the lad; “I allow nobody to call me Jack. Do I, Bess, eh?” “Nobody whatever, love,” replied Edgeworth Bess; “nobody but me, dear.” “And me,” insinuated Mrs. Maggot. “My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. Ain't you, Jacky darling?”