bounce the tradesman out of it; his fashionable appearance, and affected anger at his insinuations, always had the effect of inducing an apology; and in many such cases he has actually carried away the spoil, notwithstanding what passed between them, and even gone so far as to visit the same shop again a second and a third time with as good success as at first. This, with his nightly attendance at the Theatres and places of public resort, where he picked pockets of watches, snuff-boxes, &c. was for a length of time the sole business of his life. He was however secured, after secreting himself for a time, convicted, and is now transported for life--as he conceives, sold by another cele-brated Prig, whose real name was Bill White, but better known by the title of Conky Beau. ~82~~will be acted on sometimes by the very party you are speaking to--the expertness with which it is done is almost beyond belief.” Bob having ascertained that his handkerchief was the extent of his loss, they pursued their way towards Charing Cross. “A line of street is intended,” continued Tom, “to be made from the Opera House to terminate with that church; and here is the King's Mews, which is now turned into barracks.” “Stop thief! Stop thief!” was at this moment vociferated in their ears by a variety of voices, and turning round, they perceived a well-dressed man at full speed, followed pretty closely by a concourse of people. In a moment the whole neighbourhood appeared to be in alarm. The up-stairs windows were crowded with females--the tradesmen were at their shop-doors--the passengers were huddled together in groups, inquiring of each other--“What is the matter?--who is it?--which is him?--what has he done?” while the pursuers were increasing in numbers as they went. The bustle of the scene was new to Bob--Charing Cross and its vicinity was all in motion. “Come,” said Tom, “let us see the end of this--they are sure to _nab_{l} my gentleman before he gets much 1 _Nabbed or nibbled_--Secured or taken. ~83~~farther, so let us _brush_{1} on.” Then pulling his Cousin by the arm, they moved forward to the scene of action. As they approached St. Martin's Lane, the gathering of the crowd, which was now immense, indicated to Tom a capture. “Button up,” said he, “and let us see what's the matter.” “_Arrah be easy_” cried a voice which they instantly recognized to be no other than Pat Murphy's. “I'll hold you, my dear, till the night after Doomsday, though I can't tell what day of the year that is. Where's the man wid the _gould-laced skull-cap_? Sure enough I tought I'd be up wi' you, and so now you see I'm down upon you.”