Rescued for Life: The True Story of a Young Thief.

Otago Witness, Issue 1630, 17 February 1883, Page 27

Rescued for Life : The True Story of a Young Thief.

By T. J. BARNARDO, F.R.O.S. (Conductor of Dr Barnardo's Homes for Destitute Childrei).) Chapter I. A Thieves' Kitchen— Metropolitan Lodging Homes— A Sick Lad—" Punch "— " The Thief- »■ 'itij^'" ' ooli "~^ e ff°tiations— A Bargain. &'e^ml FEW years ago there stood in a IM^fe&jMl narrow court not far from Holborn a common lodging house, c^ffsMVS3 m care of a de Put.Y named i«l^^ Michael, and rendered notorious fi||b=S^ by the fact that it gave shelter \^\W\ for the most part to criminals. {a£& Many attempts were made to t *&■ close this house and disperse its *•- habitue's, but until the progress of the Metropolitan improvements led to the demolition of the entire court, all efforts to do away with what was known to be a manufactory of young thieves were fruitless. 1< or fourteen or fifteen years, if a digression may be pardoned, I had adopted, for the better extension of my work among street boys, the plan of spending several nights during the most' inclement season of the year in the streets, searching for homeless and destitute children among what may be well termed the purlieus of the Metropolis. By this means I have been enabled to draw, from the most squalid and poverty-stricken districts, numbers of boys and girls to the shelter of the Institutions under my care. There they remained for periods varying from a few months to as many years, going out again, in a large proportion of cases, thoroughly equipped for the hard battle of their life. In these midnight wanderings no resorts of the destitute have proved more fruitful hunt-ing-grounds than the Common Lodging Houses of the Metropolis. These " hotels of the poor," where a bed may be obtained for threepence or fourpence a night, continually shelter in London alone about 30,000 of the homeless and destitute class. To any reflecting mind the potentiality for evil of so vast an army without fixed abode, and dependent at best upon casual employment for the barest livelihood, must suggest serious forebodings. Some of these lodging houses are, I gladly admit, decently conducted, and are frequented by the industrious section of the homeless poor, casual dock labourers, " costermongers' curates," and street musicians of various orders, &c. ; but the greater number are occupied only by tramps, and by persons of immoral character, and are, in fact, merely resorts of quasi criminals. For example, the Houses of Detention and Prisons of London and the Home Counties regularly discharge each month, on the expiration of their sentences, many criminals who at once find their way to the lodging house districts, to fraternise with companions perhaps equally guilty, but more successful than they have been in evading for a while the clutches of the law. It is not, therefore, difficult to understand that what makes these lodging houses such utterly undesirable places of refuge for children is that so many degraded and brutalised persons find in them a convenient shelter, thereby surely spreading the contagion of their own awful example, to the ruin of any innocent young life brought within the circle of their baleful influence. I know of few sights more calculated to quicken the zeal of the philanthropist than that which may be witnessed in so many of these lodging houses any night of the week between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m., when, standing grouped around the fire, or lying about upon the benches in the common kitchen, talking, smoking, and idling away the time, may be setn boys and girls scarcely beyond the age of childhood, yet learning rapidly, from the conversation and conduct of those who are older than themselves, to become hardened in the vices of their seniors. The vilest seed is here, alas ! all too quickly sown, and rapidly bears fruit of the saddest kind. There are lodging houses in some districts of the Metropolis which are almost entirely occupied by boys and youths fast budding into manhood. Others are only frequented by girls and very young women, while yet others are used by both sexes indifferently. A few are well known to the police as harbouring mainly the worst class of criminals. Often, when about to enter houses of notoriously evil repute, have I been stopped by constables on duty, with the warning : " I wouldn't go in there, sir, if I were you." But my duty led me into these places, and although at first ifc was not always possible to escape insult, or even violence, yet it is pleasant to be able now to record that so thoroughly has the nature of my work become known to the " deputies," or keepers, that for years past I have invariably experienced only the most civil treatment at their hands, and indeed at times have been taken into the confidence of some of their lodgers not naturally remarkable for ingenuousness or candour. But to resume my story. During previous midnight rambles in the West Central district I had frequently attempted to gain a footing in the court near Holborn where stood the thieves' kitchen with which I opened this narrative, but for a long time without success. Once or twice when I ventured into the house the "deputy" Michael met me with a sharp inquiry as to the nature of my business, intimating with much plainness of speech that he " didn't want no loafers here," and " you'd better make yourself scarce," advice which at the time I conceived it to be wise to accept with as little delay as possible. Yet I none the less earnestly desired to become better acquainted with the boys who frequented that

particular house, and to save some of them if possible. No immediate prospect presented itself of realising my wish, until one night, in the winter of 187-, when, as I was passing down the court to visit an adjoining lodging house, I observed the " deputy " standing at the door with an auxious look, which seemed to give place to an expression of satisfaction as 1 approached. The explanation was soon found. Somewhat entreatingly; he accosted me with, " I've a sick feller in 'ere, I wish you'd see him, sir. I'm 'fraid he's got the fever " — a very serious contingency for even such a lodging house keeper as he, for a bad case of fever has been known to scare away the lodgers for a week or ten days, besides which, the sanitary officer has a very awkward manner of insisting upon complete disinfection. Delighted wi<-h the long-sought opportunity thus opened to me, I readily acquiesced, and proceeded upstairs to one of the large sleeping rooms, in which there were beds for fifty or sixty lads. In a distant corner I found a poor boy, fifteen years of age, lying ill, with all the symptoms of a sharp attack of rheumatic fever. When I assured Michael that there was no danger of contagion from the lad's state, and added that I would willingly attend him, and supply medicine without charge, the deputy seemed pleased, and my offer was very gratefully accepted. From this incident began a series of regular visits, my usual plan being to call about 8.30 in the evening and remain chatting with my patient until 10 o'clock, when a few of the other lads generally arrived. Then I went down to the kitchen and sat by the fire talking to the " deputy." Thus I soon became well acquainted with the lads frequenting the house ; so much so, that after a while they came in and out without taking much notice of me, and I was quickly initiated into the peculiar methods of their life. I found that they were all young thieves, and prosecuted their nefarious pursuits under the- leadership of one lad, said to be very niuch the superior of the others. This lad I did not at first see, bul I heard extraordinary stories of his adroitness, and the boys all seemed proud of their leader. These lads were for the most part robbers of stalls or cheap shops outside of which goods were exposed for sale. Others were pickpockets, and these were more frequently in danger of being caught. The goods obtained in these ways were disposed of without much difficulty, but the boys generally held a kind of Dutch auction for the disposable of edible spoil in an adjacent lodging house, the occupants of which were only too glad to buy food at a greatly reduced price. I have seen chops, steaks, fowl, oranges, vegetables, and other eatables put up for auction and sold for perhaps one-tenth of their real value. It may be imagined how, during my visits to this house, I took many occasions of remonstrating privately and quietly, as opportunity offered, with the lads upon their evil life, and I know that permanent impressions were made in some minds. Most of the boys began also to look with eagerness, when I came, for the usual reading aloud of some pleasant book. This became a regular feature or my visit, and especially after my young patient was convalescent and able to receive me seated at the fire in the kitchen. My visits were gradually delayed until 11 or 12 o'clock, when I was always sure of having a larger audience. It was a curious sight to behold the lads on such occasions grouped in various attitudes around the fire, some lying on the floor, but all with their faces turned to me with marked interest as I read aloud such stories as " Uncle Tom's Cabin," and afterwards Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress." One night, when I arrived somewhat later than usual, I observed in front of the fire, toasting a herring on a wire fork, a lad very unlike the other denizens of the place. Singularly good-looking, with a bright full eye, the boy had a countenance on which candour and honesty seemed impressed. A fearless, or perhaps I ought to have written audacious, expression swept at times over his face, and gave him a spirited appearance, the attraction of which few could resist. That which seemed to me the most noticeable thing about the lad was the entire absence of a peculiar expression which was so manifest in the faces of all the other boys. I refer to the furtive glance of the eye and nervous twitching of the corner of the mouth which is symptomatic of the young professional thief. I have called this " the thief -look," as I have seldom found any case in which young persons give way to habits of deliberate and long-continued dishonesty without acquiring this expression. In older persons the nervous twitching of the mouth disappears, and gives place to another and firmer cast of countenance equally expressive in its way, but the furtive glances <af the eye remain.* I was therefore much surprised to observe that this particular lad, so perfectly at home in this thieves' kitchen, and on such manifestly intimate terms with its occupants, was not only destitute of anything approaching " the thieflook," but was really a very fine open-faced young fellow. My surprise was increased when I noticed that his conversation was rather worse than that of the others, and plainly revealed him to De, like them, an experienced thief. " Who is he?" I asked my young convalescent in an undertone. "Don't you know?" was the amused rejoinder ; " why, that's Punch." " What ! that boy Punch? He the leader of you all ? He the lad who plans most of the robberies here ? Impossible^ ! " " Yes," he answered, with a pronounced nod of the head, while a look of something like pride in his leader passed over the boy'H face, " that's PUNCH, tmre enough, and there ain't a cleverer than 'im anywheres in London." I confessed^ myself utterly baffled. Here was a boy having as frank and open a countenance as one could wish to meet among youug lads of any class in life, innocence apparently beaming in his countenance, and his whole manner indeed being, until he began to talk, that of the most virtuous person imaginable ! I need hardly add that this information, while it surprised me, made me intensely anxious to learn all I could about this ringleader boy, but my patient could or would tell me nothing, except that " Punch had always been there, long before he came." that "he hadn't never * In illustration ef this, I may state that on one occasion,- being in Glasgow, I was iuvited to visit a reformatory by a magistrate at whose house I waa stopping- Picking out some twenty-four boys from a much larger number, he asked me privately to give him my opinion of thorn. After a little talk on general subjects with each, during which I closely scrutinised their attitude and appearance, I selected six from the others, and told my host that under no circumstances ought these lads in my judgment to be trusted. Of the others, I expressed a difficulty in saying anything without knowing the facts concerning them. He reported what I had said to tho superintendent, and I was not surprised when (he lattor replied that I had isolated half a dozen of the moat hopelera j'oung thieves he had iv a Inrge institution containing then nearly '200. So much for the index of character which " tb.6 thief-look " conveys.

been caught," and that he " didn't think there was a ' Bobby ' in London clever enough to catch 'mi." It was evident that if I wanted further information I must apply to headquarters ; so, joining in the conversation, I gradually learned from his own lips a good deal of the recent doings of the invincible " Punch."

From the moment I first saw him the project was formed in my mind to do what lay in my power to save so fine-looking a fellow from the evil life he had entered upon, but how to begin I knew not. I could only feel that I must be very wary, and wait patiently until a fitting opportunity arose to make the attempt ; but 1 was singularly assisted that very first evening by Punch himself.

I was reading for the second or third time the story of " Uncle Tom," and had come to that part where Eliza's escape with her child over the semi-frozen river, Ohio, is described. None listened with deeper interest than Punch, and when I closed the book he looked at it with a sigh, and made a remark to the effect that —

" Who'd think there was such splendid stuff in a little bit of a book like that ? "

This led to my telling my audience something about books, their wonderful smallness, and the stores of information and interest that they opened to all who could read them.

To my delight I found that Punch, who could not read, had a very strong desire to learn. He had picked up a letter or two in the streets from posters, or from the names over the doors of shops, and could spell a few simple words, but failed to advance beyond this. Looking at the lad's intelligent and expressive countenance, I suggested that it would be easy enough for him to learn to read if he but applied hia mind to it. To this he replied he could not afford it, being unable to spare the time. "Why not?" I asked. " 'Ow am I to live, I wants to know ? What'll become of 'my work ' ? Eh ! "

"Oh ! " I said, " that need be no difficulty. I can easily get you admission to a Home where you will be given food and lodging free of charge while you are learning — that is if you care to go." But this proposition was not relished, so the subject for a time dropped, as I was far too experienced in such cases to appear eager to press it. As, however, I found that Punch always returned later at night than anyone else, I contrived that my visits were in future made at a later hour. By this means we became better acquainted, and I ever found him anxious that I should begin reading as soon as I arrived. Punch generally wound tip by renewing his former expressions of desire to learn to read, and by lamenting the difficulties in his way. I think he wanted me to propose that I would give him a few lessons during my visits, but I had no intention of doing this. My object was to get Punch away from that house, and from his present evil ways, if I could, and to elucidate some of the mystery that seemed to be hanging about the lad. At length one night he said : " J say, mister, how long d'ye think it'd take a chap to learn to read fust rate ? " '

" If you were to throw your whole mind into it as you do now into other things," 1 answered, " I have no doubt, Punch, you could learn to read in ten months or a year." His countenance foil.

" That's a long time to wait," ho rejoined. " But you know, my lad, we cannot learn anything, or attain success in any direction, without an effort, and most things require prolonged effort before we are successful."

Punch mused for a bit, and then, looking round the kitchen hastily, he said to me in a lower tone : " — -

" I s'pose if I went to that 'ere 'ome o' yours it'd be 'most as bad as a reg'lar prison ? "

" Whatever put such an idea into your head ? " I asked.

" Oh," he replied, " I know in them kind o' places yer can t do as yer like, or go in and out ; they locks the doors on yer, and there y'are stuck fast."

" Even that would be no very great hardship," I answered, " if they are kind to you while you remain, and only keep you sufficiently long to teach you to read, and perhaps also a good trade. You cannot be in two places at once ; and it cannot matter much, if you are well employed, whether you have your liberty to roam the streets or not."

Yet Punch seemed unconvinced

" What I want to know is," he suddenly exclaimed, while his clear eyes revealed the suspicion he felt, " can a feller go when he likes ? I mean at the end o' the time that he says he'll stop for? I don't want none o' yer 'formatory dodges."

" Certainly," I rejoined ; " if you say you will come to my Homo for a, yeuv, at tho end of the year 1 will lvl } ou go ; or if you say you will come until you have learned to read well, I will let you go as soon as ever you can read ; but," I added, in a firm voice, " I could not take you at all unless you promised on your honour to remain faithfully during the whole time agreed upon."

" Oh, that's all right," he said. " I'd stop if I once promised it. I'm a bad 'tin, I knows, but no feller about 'ere can say as I don't stick to my word." Punch said no more then, but a few nights after, being alone with him, he announced somewhat suddenly, during a short pause, his intention :

" Look 'ere, guvnor, I don't mind what they says about a chap, I'll go if you'll promise me fair that I may leave in a year's time, whether I've learned to read or not. I've made up my mind to go with yer, straight off, if yer promisee." It may be iniagiued with what pleasure I closed with this offer. Punch and I shook hands over the bargain. I stipulated further that during the year he was to be with me he would not visit the lodging house or communicate with any of his old companions. To this Punch assented after a little hesitation. Accordingly he promised to " look me up " the next morning.

(To be continued.)

Cooling and Rkfkbsiiing are tUa off« ' Row land*' Kiiydor on the fact, hands, and arms of ladies and all exposed to the scorching iays of tho sun aud heated particles of du«t ; it eradicate* «11 freckles, faa, sunburn, atings of insects. &c , and produce* a beautiful and deUcite compl -xlon. Rowlands' Macassir O 1 preventb th> ha'r falling off, "r becoming dry ducmsc hot weather, and renders it beautifu'ly e.iftpliable, and glossy. Kowianda' Odonto is the purest, most (raifrant, and non-^ritty too'h powder ever made it whitens tho teeth, prevents deciy, an 4 gives a i leasing lragrar.ee to the breath. Ask any dealer in perfumery for Kow'ands' arlic'es, of 20 Hatlon Garden, London, and avoid spurious, worthless imitations. — Agen'e Kempthorne, Pnvsor, nud Go , Dunodin, Auckland, and Christcburoh.

Through his Corns, a poor postman of Sale Nearly " sacked" was for missing- the mail : But through Allcock's Corn Plaster he can now walV Much faster than Perkins, the " Blower," or Gale

Allcook's Corn PLAsrBRS are the heat cure fo Corns ever discovered. Sold by all dealers in tno.dicme Agents for this District— Kempthorne, Proßser,,& Co., Dunedin

THE NATURALIST.

The Eifects of Weather on Insect Lifer

Miss Ormerod's lecture, given at the Royal Agricultural College, Cirencester, on " Th» Effects of Weather on Insect Life," contained some interesting observations relating to hibernation. The lecturer pointed out that this phenomenon was a distinct condition from the mere effect of cold, and assumed a constitutional influencp, under which, at a certain season, insects instinctively prepared a shelter for themselves. This shelter waa specially selected under leaves or stones ; and in some cases they prepared a cell to protect their bodies, while they passed into a motionless state, with functions decreasing in power with increase of cold. Though frozen so hard that they could be broken across like dried sticks, many kinds of caterpillars were not injured by the cold so long as they were protected in the shelters which they had selected or made for themselves. The remedy " for getting rid of such pests was for farmers to cultivate their land in the autumn, so as to throw out and expose the creatures to the frost, thaw, and wet which followed. The egg-laying places — rank grasses and weeds— should be destroyed ; and it should also be remembered that liming and the use of chemical manures are important factors in diminishing the number of insect pests.

Movt r a Snake (Sets a New Suit.

" Some people think that snakes only shed their skins at certain seasons of the year," said the keeper. " That's a mistake. If they are well fed and kept right warm, they change their coats about every eight weeks through the year."

" Does it pain them ? " " Not a bit of it. You see, the skin of a snake does not increase in size as a reptile grows, as with us. While the old skin is getting smaller by degrees a now one is forming underneath, and the other gradually gets dry. When it is ready to shed it loosens around the lips, and the reptile rubs itself against the earth or the rock in the cage, and turns the upper part over the eye and the lower part over the throat. Then it commences to glide around the glass case, all the time rubbing itself against something until the entire skin is worked off. Sometimes this takes three days ; occasionally they get rid of the incumbrance in a few hours. I don't believe they have a bit of intelligence. Tor all I feed them and care for them, they would as lief bite me as any stranger. I can handle a good many of them safely, but it's only the knack of the thing— not that they won't bite, but that they can't get the chance."

The Habits of Spiders.

It has been frequently observed that when a shock of any kind is imparted to the leaves or twigs to which the web of the garden spider is affixed, the animal shakes violently in the centre of the web, so as to become almost or totally invisible to the eye ; this quivering or dancing motion being kept up for many seconds, and then • suddenly stopped. The same thing occurs when a stick is suddenly presented to the occupant of the web. The reason for these movements, which appear to be effected by the spider in alternation, pulling the upper portion of the web downwards by means of his strong hindermost pair of legs, and then suddenly releasing it (the natural elasticity of the web greatly assisting the occupier in the execution of these movements); seems to be founded upon a desire on-thifpart of the spider to effect concealment when ifc feels that danger is near.

A Lord of the Forest.

The Lord Mayor of London, with the other Commissioners of Epping Forest, has been visiting the Duke of Portland's Welbeck Estate, which is widely known for the grandeur of its trees. Some of the timber grown in the park years ago was used in building St. Paul's Cathedral, and at the Abbey there is still preserved a letter written by Sir Christo pher Wren, who, communicating with the Duke of Newcastle's agent in 1695, sends tho dimensions of the beams he requires for the roof of the edifice, and adds that he " expects this season but ten of the great trees." The " Greendale oak " in Welbeck Park is called " the Methuselah of Trees," and writing of it in 1790, in his "Descriptions and Sketches of i Remarkable Oaks at Welbesk," Major Rook J said the tree was then thought to be 700 yearsfl old. In 1724 an opening was made in this oalM large enough to allow a carriage, or three horsemen abreast, to pass through it. At that time the girth of the ancient tree above the arch was nearly 36 feet, the height of the arch was 11 feet, and the topmr st branches were 54 feet from tho ground. Although crippled with age and soma rough treatment, the " Greendale oak " still flourishes. It has', 1 like 'some old men, to be propped up ; but its boughs are yet green, and its foliage bright. The timber taken from the tree's heart was in 1724 made into a cabinet for the Countess of Oxford, and this cabinet, which is now at Welbeck, contains several inlaid pictures, one or two of which represents a former Duke of Portland driving a coach and six horses through the cavity cut in the old oak's trunk. On the estate the story is told that his Grace, in an after-dinner frolic, made a bet of 1000 guineas that he could drive a coach and six through the body of the tree without touching the bark, and that he accomplished the feat and won the guineas. The cabinet, which is quite a work of art, also bears the following quotation from Ovid'a ' ' Metamorphoses " : — Oft did the Dryads lead the festive dance ' Beneath his shade, or hand in hand enclose The orbit of his trunk, full fifteen yards ; Whose head above his fellows of the grove Doth tower, as these above tho sward beneath.

Alligators in America.

A St. Louis newspaper furnishes some interesting facts in connection with alligatorcatching and killing, occupations which give employment to a large number of persons in the south of the United States. The mode of catching the creature is as follows : — The young ones are first secured as they play about the hole where the parent is lying. A noose is then so arranged that immediately the animal emerges from its lurking-place, its head is thrust within it. Another noose is then secured to the tail, and the animal is strapped down to a board, and is towed away behind a boat in which her young ones are placed. The hide of a large alligator is worth between one and two dollars, and can be transformed into splendid leather. Besides this, the alligator is valued for the oil which it affords, which, although of an unpleasant odour, is considered a good remedy for rheumatism.

— M. de Lesseps does not' like the English, and a few weeks ago, discovering that he was wearing a collar of English make, took it off, threw it on the ground and danced on it. This in the story told by the papers, but it is feared the true cause was that the collar refused to Btay buttoned at the back and waa working up oVer his head.— Oil City Derrick.