This poor fellow was kept in prison nearly a month, during which time his wife came to London, and not hearing anything of him at the place they had appointed for their meeting, she went over to Ireland in search of him. At length Jemmy was discharged because there was no evidence against him; but his clothes were not given up to him till long after.
ONE OF THE FANCY.
A poor harmless translator of old shoes was placed at the bar by a city officer, upon a charge of having stolen, or otherwise improperly obtained, a cheque for 300l. from one Jonathan Freshfield, Esquire, "one of the Fancy."
This Jonathan Freshfield, Esq., was a diminutive, forked-radish sort of a young man, very fashionably attired, or, as he would say, kiddily togg'd; and, though it was scarcely noon, he was rather queer in the attic; that is to say, not exactly sober.
He stated his case in this manner:—"Here—I wish this fellow to say how he got hold o' my cheque for three hundred—that's all, you know; let him come that, and I shall be satisfied. Rum go—had it last night, missed it this morning—d——d rum go! Here—here it is, see; payable at Hankey's—all right—grabbed him myself. Went to Hankey's two hours 'fore Bank opened—waited two hours—sat upon little stool—wouldn't be done, you know. In he comes with it—grabs him! There he was—looked like a fool. 'Hallo!' says I, 'how did you come by it?' Mum. Hadn't a word, you know. Only let him come it now, all about it, and I'm satisfied. Don't like to be done—a rum go, but can't stand it—that's all."
The city officer said he had been sent for to Hankey's to take the prisoner into custody; and having done so he carried him before the Lord Mayor; but as it appeared the offence, if there was any, had been committed in the county, his Lordship had referred the matter to Bow-street.
The magistrate asked to see the cheque, as the Esquire called it. The officer produced it, and it proved not to be a cheque, but an acknowledgment from Messrs. Hankey and Co. that they had received 300l. from Jonathan Freshfield, Esq., for which they would account to him on demand.
"Pray, have you an account at Hankey's, Mr. Freshfield?" asked the magistrate.
Mr. Freshfield replied, "Who, I? not a bit of it. I'm from the country, you know. D—n town!—Had enough of it almost. Diddled in this manner!—it's a sick'ner. Got it again though—only want to know how that fellow, the long one there, came by it. Put the blunt at Hankey's, to be safe—'cause wouldn't be done, and then lost the cheque!—that's a rum go—isn't it, your worship?"