“How very different from me,” replied Laura. “Last night I was awakened by the scratching of a mouse nibbling in the wainscoat, and soon after it ran across my face.”

“Then pray sleep to-night with your mouth open, and a piece of toasted cheese in it, to catch the mouse,” said Major Graham. “That is the best trap I know!”

“Uncle David,” asked Frank, as they proceeded along the street, “if there is any hope of that wicked boy being reformed, will you try to have him taught better? Being so very young, he must have learned from older people to steal.”

“Certainly he must! It is melancholy to know how carefully mere children are trained to commit the very worst [156] ]crimes, and how little the mind of any young boy can be a match for the cunning of old, experienced villains like those who lead them astray. When once a child falls into the snare of such practised offenders, escape becomes as impossible as that of a bird from a limed twig.”

“So I believe,” replied Frank. “Grandmama told me that the very youngest children of poor people, when first sent to school in London, are often waylaid by those old women who sell apples in the street, and who pretend to be so good-natured that they make them presents of fruit. Of course these are very acceptable, but after some time, those wicked wretches propose that the child in return shall bring them a book, or anything he can pick up at home, which shall be paid for in apples and pears. Few little boys have sufficient firmness not to comply, whether they like it or not, and after that the case is almost hopeless, because, whenever the poor victim hesitates to steal more, those cruel women threaten to inform the parents of his misconduct, which terrifies the boy into doing anything rather than be found out.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” exclaimed Laura. “It all begins so smoothly! No poor little boy could suspect any danger, and then he becomes a hardened thief at once.”

“Grandmama says, too, that pick-pockets, in London used to have the stuffed figure of a man hung from the roof of their rooms, and covered all over with bells, for the boys to practise upon, and no one was allowed to attempt stealing on the streets, till he could pick the pocket of this dangling effigy, without ringing one of the many bells with which it was ornamented.”

“I think,” said Harry, “when the young thieves saw that figure hanging in the air, it might have reminded them how soon they would share the same fate. Even crows take warning when they see a brother crow hanging dead in a field.”

[157]
]“It is a curious thing of crows, Harry, that they certainly punish thieves among themselves,” observed Major Graham. “In a large rookery, some outcasts are frequently to be observed living apart from the rest, and not allowed to associate with their more respectable brethren. I remember hearing formerly, that in the great rookery at ————, when all the other birds were absent, one solitary crow was observed to linger behind, stealing materials for his nest from those around, but next morning a prodigious uproar was heard among the trees,—the cawing became so vociferous, that evidently several great orators were agitating the crowd, till suddenly the enraged crows flew in a body upon the nest of their dishonest associate, and tore it in pieces.”

“Bravo!” cried Frank. “I do like to hear about all the odd ways of birds and animals! Grandmama mentioned lately, that, if you catch a crow, and fasten him down with his back to the ground, he makes such an outcry, that all his black brothers come wheeling about the place, till one of them at last alights to help him. Immediately the treacherous prisoner grapples hold of his obliging friend, and never afterwards lets him escape; so, by fastening down one after another, we might entrap the whole rookery.”