“Ah, now there’s where you are mistaken, Bull. They can be worse a thousand times, and they _will_, unless you turn over a fresh leaf. Why not, Bull? See what a tattered, filthy old leaf the old one is!” (Bull, with an uneasy glance towards the outlet of the alley, but still speaking with all respect,) “Ah! it’s all that, guv’nor.” “Well then, since you _must_ begin on a fresh leaf, why not try the right leaf—the honest one, eh, Bull. Just to see how you like it.” “All right, Mister Catlin. I’ll think about it.” “I wish to the Lord you would, Bull. There’s not much to laugh at, take my word for that.” “All right, guv’nor, I ain’t a larfin. I means to be a reg’lar model some day—when I get time. Morning, Mister Catlin, sir.” And away went “Old Bull,” with a queer sort of grin on his repulsive countenance, evidently no better or worse for the brief encounter with his honest adviser, but very thankful indeed to escape. “I’ve been up into that man’s room,” said my tough little, cheerful missionary, “and rescued his wife out of his great cruel hands, when three policemen stood on the stairs afraid to advance another step.” He would do more than in his blunt, rough-and-ready way point out to them what a shameful waste of their lives it was to be skulking in a filthy court all day without the courage to go out and seek their wretched living till the darkness of night. He would offer to find them a job; he made many friends, and was enabled to do so, earnestly exhorting them to try honest work just for a month, to find out what it was like, and the sweets of it. And many have tried it; some as a joke—as a whimsical feat worth engaging in for the privilege of afterwards being able to brag of it, and returned to their old practice in a day or two; others have tried it, and, to their credit be it spoken, stuck to it. In my own mind I feel quite convinced that if such men as Mr. C., of the Cow Cross Mission, who holds the keys not only of the houses in which thieves dwell, but, to a large extent, also, a key to the character and peculiarities of the thieves themselves, were empowered with proper facilities, the amount of good they are capable of performing would very much astonish us. CHAPTER VII. HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE BRITISH THIEF. _The Three Classes of Thieving Society_.—_Popular Misapprehensions_.—_A True Picture of the London Thief_.—_A Fancy Sketch of the_ “_Under-Ground Cellar_.”—_In Disguise at a Thieves’ Raffle_.—_The Puzzle of_ “_Black Maria_.”—_Mr. Mullins’s Speech and his Song_.