"Why so!" demanded another prisoner.
"Because, you see, I'm accused of robbing my master; and as all the jurymen are substantial shopkeepers, they're sure to convict a man in my position,—even if the evidence isn't complete."
"I'm here for swindling tradesmen at the West-End of the town," said another.
"Well," exclaimed the first speaker, "the jury will let you off if there's the slightest pretence, because they're all City tradesmen, and hate the West-End ones."
"And I'm here for what is called 'a murderous assault upon a police-constable,'" said a third prisoner.
"Was he a Metropolitan or a City-Policeman?"
"A Metropolitan."
"Oh! well—you're safe enough; the jury are sure to believe that he assaulted you first."
"Thank God for that blessing!"
"I tell you what goes a good way with Old Bailey Juries—a good appearance. If a poor devil, clothed in rags and very ugly, appears at the bar, the Foreman of the Jury just says, 'Well, gentlemen, I think we may say Guilty; for my part I never saw such a hang-dog countenance in my life.' But if a well-dressed and good-looking fellow is placed in the dock, the Foreman is most likely to say, 'Well, gentlemen, far my part I never can nor will believe that the prisoner could be guilty of such meanness: so I suppose we may say Not Guilty, gentlemen.'"