One morning, on going downstairs, I discovered (to my great horror) our little boy, with his mouth wide open, seated on "Dan's" knee, listening most attentively to some story. Upon questioning the child I found that our "pet pickpocket" had been telling the little fellow of the fun it was to go "sawney hunting," which I afterwards learnt was stealing pieces of bacon from shop doors.
The Sunday evening after this the cook, who was naturally timid, had been left at home with Dan alone, it being the other maid's "Sunday out." They were both sitting very comfortably talking by the fire-light (for it was winter time) when Master Dan thought fit to tell the girl all about his previous life. He gave her some very vivid illustrations of housebreakings and informed her that Sunday night, when the family had gone to church, was their best time. He also told her of the many times that he had been in Newgate, and that once he had been taken up on "suspicion" of highway robbery; it was an old woman he helped to rob, and he told of the "lark" they had with her, and of how they had left her with her hands and feet tied together in a ditch.
All these stories so terrified the poor girl that she felt convinced that the boy meant to take advantage of the tranquillity of that Sunday evening, "their best time," to serve her as he had done the "old woman;" so she rushed to the street door in her fright, and there we found her on our return home, crying and in a dreadful state of excitement. She vowed that she would quit the house the very next morning, and she wondered how we could leave her with a "common pickpocket." I tried to quiet her (for she was a very good girl, and I did not wish to part with her), by telling her that we wished to reform the lad; but nothing would pacify her save his leaving the house; so I told my husband that he must really find a school for the boy, or we should be left without servants.
He accordingly went in search of a school. It was wonderful to see how anxious the masters were to have the youth, until my husband informed them (for it was considered but right to do so), that the boy he wished to introduce to them as a pupil had lately been an inmate of Newgate. On hearing this they invariably assured him that there was a school "just up the street" that was the very thing he wanted. Upon visiting the establishment "just up the street," however, he found the master was astonished that the "head" of such a school as the previous one should refer my husband to him, for he was sure that Mr. ——'s school was the very place for such boys—nevertheless, as Mr. —— had refused to take the lad, there was an academy a short distance from that establishment that, he was sure, would not shut their doors against him. But upon going there it was the old story over again, and we soon discovered that it was impossible to find any respectable establishment willing to take charge of our young thief.
We were at last obliged to give up all idea of getting him into any school, so we thought the best thing to be done was to try and find him a situation. In the meantime he got tired of the work he was directed to do, and would sit all day long looking at the fire without taking the least notice of any one; and if told that he should occupy himself in some way or other, he would turn sullen, and mutter something between his teeth about his being promised to be put to school, and why wasn't he sent to school when that was all he wanted?
I found that my meat began to disappear in a most mysterious manner. One day the half of a goose went no one knew where. I suspected "Dan;" my husband was indignant (for he wished to think the boy had forgotten his bad habits), and said, "It was easy for the servants to make out that Dan had purloined it." This annoyed me so much that I did not hesitate to tell my husband that I saw clearly we should have no peace in the house until the boy was provided with a situation out of it.
At last the long-looked-for situation was found. It was at a large wholesale stationer's. The proprietor was made acquainted with the boy's whole history, and he promised to do all he could to effect his reformation. But upon Dan's going to him, the gentleman was so taken aback by the boy's expression, that he sent a polite note stating—"That he should really be afraid, from his looks, to have such a character in his establishment."
In a few days afterwards he was on his way to America.
The last we heard of him was that he and several "reformed criminals" from the London ragged schools were "working" (as the thieves call it) the city of New York. In conclusion, it is but right I should add that, although the boy while with us was frequently trusted with money to change, he never defrauded us of a sixpence.