Our trio now directed their progress along Holborn, in which route they had advanced but a few minutes when their attention was arrested by a concourse of people assembled at the door of a Linen-draper, who it seems had detected a thief in the person of a pregnant woman. This information excited the sympathy of our three friends, and they accordingly entered the Shop. Tallyho entreated of the Linen-draper, that he would be merciful to the unfortunate woman, in consideration of her being so far in a family way.
“And yet, sir,” answered the Shopkeeper, “I fancy we shall be able to relieve the lady without the assistance of a midwife.” The woman was then taken into a back room and searched by two of her own sex. The result of this investigation was soon made known.—The pregnancy was assumed, the better to evade suspicion; her under garments were completely lined with hooks, to which were suspended, in vast variety, articles of stolen property, including not only those of light weight, viz. handkerchiefs, shawls, stockings, &c. but several of less portable description, amongst which were two pieces of Irish linen. These articles she had conveyed through an aperture in her upper habiliment of sufficient dimensions to admit an easy access to the general repository. The ingenuity of this invention created much surprise, and as it greatly facilitated concealment and evaded detection, there is no doubt of its having frequently produced a rich harvest. This female adept was now committed to the charge of an officer, the Shopkeeper having identified upon her person several articles of stolen property.
CHAPTER IX
Ladies,—the chariot waits;—the toilet now Where erst so many hours were idly spent, Asks of its wonted due the tythe alone;— Braid then your tresses of luxuriant now, And wrap your forms angelic in the dress Simple, yet rich and elegant, that gives Your matchless beauties half revealed to view; The broad capacious bosom's luscious swell, Still heaving strong, and suing to be prest;— Grace then the vehicle.—We, observers Of Real Life, the while, in London go To “catch the living manners as they rise, “And give the age its very form and pressure.”
CONTINUING their route down Holborn, the adventure in the Linen-draper's shop became the theme of conversation.—“It is not alone,” said Dashall, “to the lower orders and necessitous that this system of Shop-lifting is confined; many recent instances have occurred of similar depredation, by women above the mediocrity of rank, who, however, frequently contrive to compromise prosecution, while the delinquent of poverty is visited by the utmost rigor of the law!—Of the two, certainly the thief from habit is more culpable than the thief from necessity.”
Sir Felix and the Squire entirely agreed with their friend in opinion.—“Shop-lifters,” continued Dashall, “are as pernicious to the trading part of the community as any of the cheats of London; there is not, on a moderate calculation, less than 5000 of these artful thieves in the metropolis, and the prejudice they do to the industrious tradesman is incalculable.”
“By the powers of safety, then,” exclaimed the baronet “the honest dealer should consider every stranger a thief until further acquaintance.”
“Not exactly so; however, it is necessary that the London tradesman should be upon his guard, and keep a sharp look out upon his customers, not knowing, by their appearance, whether they are honest or otherwise."{1}
Turning from Holborn into Chancery Lane, our pedestrians were encountered by a very handsome chariot, in which were two elegantly dressed and beautiful women, who, ordering the carriage to stop, saluted Dashall and the Squire in the most fascinating terms of friendly recognition.