'GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.'

"I have already hinted at the character and description of the persons by whom these forgeries are framed. It would seem, from the example given, that such documents are available in every sea-port or other considerable town; but this is not the case. It is true that certain kinds of documents, especially sham hawkers' licenses, may be had in the provinces, at prices suited to the importance of their contents, or to the probable gains of their circulation; but all the 'regular bang-up fakes' are manufactured in the 'Start' (metropolis), and sent into the country to order, carefully packed up, and free from observation. The following note, sent to 'Carotty Poll, at Mrs. Finder's Login-ouse facin the orse and trumpet bere shop han street London with spede,' may tend to illuminate the uninitiated as to how such 'fakements' are obtained:

'Dere pol—I ope this will find yu an george in good helth and spirits—things is very bad ere, yure sister Lizer has been konfined an got a fine strappin boye, they was very bad off wen it happend. they say in mi country it never ranes but it pores and so it was pol, for mi William as got a month along with Cockny Harry for a glim lurk and they kum out nex Mundie and i av porned my new shift and every indivigual thing to get them a brekfust and a drop a rum the mornin they kums out. They wont hav no paper to work, and I dont know what they will do. Tayler Tom lent me a shillin wish I send inklosed and yu must porn sumthing for anuther shilling and get Joe the Loryer to rite a fake for William not a glim' (loss by fire) 'but a brake say as e ad a hors fell downe with the mad staggurs an broke all is plates and dishes an we are starvin you can sa that the children is got the mesuls—they av ben ill thats lie—an we want to rase a little munney to git anuther hanimul to dror the kart put a fu monekurs' (names) 'tu it and make it durty and date it sum time bak do not neglect and dont fale to pay the post no more at preasant from yure luvin sister Jane N—— at Mister John H—— the Sweep— nex dore to the Bels grinsted Colchester Essex. good by.'

"The person from whom the above letter was obtained, was in the lodging-house when it

I had called at the house whither the above letter had been addressed, to inquire for a man whom I had known in his and my own better days. The kitchen-door, or rather cellar-door, was thrust open, and in came Carrotty Poll herself.

'Well, Poll,' asked the deputy, 'how does the world use you?'

'B— bad,' was the reply, 'where's Lawyer Joe?'

'Oh, he's just gone to Mother Linstead's for some tea and sugar; here he comes.'

'Joe, I've a job for you. How much do you charge for screeving a "brake?"'

'Oh, half a bull (half-a-crown).'

'No, I'll give you a deuce o' deeners (), co's don't ye see the poor b— is in "stir" (prison).'

'Well, well, I shan't stand for a tanner. Have you got paper?'

'Yes, and a Queen's head, and all.'

The pen and ink were found, a corner of the table cleared, and operations commenced.

'He writes a good hand,' exclaimed , as the screever wrote the petition.

'I wish I could do it,' said another.

'If you could, you'd soon be transported,' said a ; while the whole kitchen in chorus, immediately on its completion, proclaimed, that it was d—d well done, adding to that, not 'swell' in a score would view it in any other light than a 'ream' (genuine) concern.

Lawyer Joe was up to his trade—he folded the paper in official style—creased it as if it was long written and often examined, attached the signatures of the minister and churchwardens, and dipping his fingers under the fireplace, smeared it with ashes, and made the whole the best representation of a true account of 'a horse in the mad staggers' and 'a child in the measles' that could be desired by the oldest and best cadger on the monkry.

These professional writers are in possession of many autographs of charitable persons, and as they keep a dozen or more bottles of different shades of ink, and seldom write documents on exactly the same sort of paper, it is difficult to detect the imposition. A famous lurker who has been previously alluded to in this work, was once taken before a magistrate at York whose signature was attached to his fakement. The imitation was excellent, and the 'lurker' swore hard and fast to the worthy justice that he (the justice) write it in his own saddle-room, as he was preparing to ride, and gave him , too. The effrontery and firmness of the prisoner's statement gained him his discharge!

It is not uncommon in extensive districts— say, for instance, a section of a county taking in or a dozen townships—for a school of lurkers to keep a secretary and remit his work and his pay at the same time. In London this functionary is generally paid by commission, and sometimes nartly in food, beer, and tobacco. The following is a fair estimate of the scale of charges:

To this I may add the prices of other articles in the begging line.

Such is an outline, open to circumstantial variation, of the pay received for the sort of accommodation required.

There is a very important species of 'lurking' or 'screeving,' which has not yet been alluded to.

It is well-known that in the colliery districts an explosion of fire-damp frequently takes place, when many lives are lost, and the men who escape are often so wounded as to render amputation of a leg or arm the only probable means of saving them from the grave. Of course the accident, with every particular as to date and locality, goes the round of the newspapers. Such an event is a sort of God-send to the beggingletter writer. If he is anything of a draughtsman, so much the better. He then procures a sheet of vellum, and heads it with a picture of an explosion, and exhibiting men, boys, and horses up in the air, and a few nearer the ground, minus a head, a leg, or an arm; with a background of women tearing their hair, and a few little girls crying. Such a 'fakement,' professionally filled up and put into the hands of an experienced lurker, will bring the 'amanuensis,' or 'screever,' guineas at least, and the proceeds of such an expedition have in many cases averaged per week. The lurker presenting this would have to take with him or countrymen, dressed in the garb of colliers, at least knowing something of underground work. These he would engage at 'a bob a nob' ( each), and if he made a

A famous lurker, to whom we have previously referred, Nicholas A——, kept 'a man of business' to himself, and gave him from to per day. Nicholas, who was tolerably educated, could write very well, but as his 'secretary' could imitate different hands, he was of course no trifling acquisition.

It would not be easy to trace the history of all, or even many of the men, who pursue the begging-letter trade as professional writers. Many of the vagrant tribe write their own letters, but the vast majority are obliged to have assistance. Of course, they are sometimes detected by the fact that their conversation does not tally with the rhetorical statement of the petition. The few really deserving persons, wellborn and highly educated, who subsist by begging, are very retired and cautious in their appeals. They write concisely, and their statements are generally true to a certain extent, or perhaps rigidly so in relation to an earlier part of their history. These seldom live in the very common lodging-houses.

The most renowned of the tribe who write for others, and whose general trade lies in forged certificates of bankruptcy, seizure of goods for rent, and medical testimonies to infirmity, is an Irishman, brought up in London, and who may be seen almost every night at the bar of a certain public-house in . He lives, or did live, at of the model lodging-houses. Very few persons know his occupation. They suppose that he is 'connected with the press.' Several years ago this person, says who knew this trade well, was 'regularly hard up,' and made a tender of his services to a distinguished M.P., who took a lively interest in the emancipation of the Jews. He offered to visit the provinces, hold meetings, and get up petitions. The hon. member tested his abilities, and gave him clothes and a -pound note to commence operations. 'I saw him' (says my informant) 'the same night, and he mooted the subject to me over a glass of whiskey-punch. 'Not that care (said he) if all the b—y Jews were in h—ll, but I must do something.'

'But how,' asked my informant, 'will you get up the meetings?—and then the signatures, you know!'

'Meetings!' was the reply, 'don't mention it; I can get '

The pretended Jewish Advocate never left London. He got (from Ireland) a box of old documents relative to bygone petitions for repeal, &c., and on these he put a frontispiece suited to his purpose — got them sent to Bath and Bristol, and thence transmitted to his employer—who praised his perseverance, and sent more money to the post-office of of the above-named towns; this was countermanded to London, and jovially spent at 'Tom Spring's' in .

Hitherto the movements of the begging-letter writer—self-considered—have been chiefly dwelt upon. There is another class of the fraternity, however, of whom some notice must here be taken; viz., those, who to meet cases of great pretension, and consequent misgivings on the part of the noblemen or gentry to whom fakements are presented, become referees to professional beggars. These referees are kept by local 'schools' of beggars in well-furnished apartments at respectable houses, and well dressed; their allowance varies from to per week.

But the most expert and least suspected dodge is referring to some dignified person in the country; a person however who exists nowhere but in imagination. Suppose (says my informant) I am a beggar, I apply to you for relief. Perhaps I state that I am in prospect of lucrative employment, if I could get enough money to clothe myself. You plead the number of impositions; I consent to that fact, but offer you references as to the truth of my statement. I refer you to the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Erskine, at Cheltenham (any name or place will do). You promise to write, and tell me to call in a few days; meanwhile, I assume the name of the gentleman to whom I have referred you, and write forthwith to the post-master of the town in question, requesting that any letter coming there directed to the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Erskine, may be forwarded to my present address. I thus discover what you have written, frame a flattering reply, and address it to you. I send it (under cover) to a pal of mine at Cheltenham, or elsewhere, who posts it; I call half an hour after you receive it, and, being satisfied, you give me a donation, and perhaps introduce me to some of your friends. Thus I raise a handsome sum, and the fraud is probably never found out.

of the London lurkers, who has good means of forming a calculation on the subject, assures me that the average earnings of 'lurkers' in London alone (including those who write for them), cannot be less than per annum.

of the class were lately apprehended, at the instance of the Duke of Wellington; on their persons was found sovereigns, -pound note, a silver watch with gold guard, and gold watches with a ribbon attached to each; their subscription book showed that they had collected during the current year.

A man named M'Kensie—who was transported at the last Bristol Assizes—had just received a cheque for from a nobleman lately deceased.

Most of the 'professionals' of this class include a copy of the 'Court Guide ' among their stock in trade. In this all the persons known to be charitable, have the mark

The late Queen Dowager.

Hon. Wm. Ashley.

The Bishop of Norwich.

Serjeant Talfourd.

Charles Dickins.

Samuel Rogers, the Poet.

Samuel Warren (Author of 'Extracts from the Diary of a Physician).

Hon. G. C. Norton, the 'beak (magistrate), but good for all that.

Rev. E. Holland, Hyde-park-gardens.

The late Sir Robert Peel.

Countess of Essex (only good to sickness, or distressed authorship).

Marquess of Bredalbane (good on anything religious).

The Editor of the 'Sun.'

Madame Celeste.

Marquess of Blandford.

Duke of Portland.

Duke of Devonshire.

Lord George Bentinck (deceased; God A'mighty wouldn't let him live; he was too good for this world.)

Lord Skelmersdale.

Lord John Manners.

Lord Lyttleton.

Mrs. Elder, Exeter.

Lady Emily Ponsonby (a devilish pretty wench).

Miss Burdett Coutts.

F. Stewart, Esq., Bath.

Mrs. Groves, Salisbury.

Mrs. Mitchell, Dorchester.

Mrs. Taggart, Bayswater (her husband is a Unitarian minister, not so good as , but he'll stand a 'bob' if you look straight at him and keep to story.)

Archdeacon Sinclair, at Kensington (but not so good as Archdeacon Pott, as was there afore him; he a good man; he couldn't refuse a dog, much more a Christian; but he had a butler, a regular 'knark,' who was a b— and a half, ,)

Lady Cottenham used to be good, but she is 'coopered' (spoilt) now, without you has a 'slum,' any as she knows, and then she won't stand above a 'bull' ()."