TO show the class of characters usually frequenting these lodging-houses, I will now give the statement of a boy—a young pickpocket—without shoes or stockings. He wore a ragged, dirty, and very thin great coat, of some dark jean or linen, under which was another thin coat, so arranged that what appeared rents—and, indeed, were rents, but designedly made—in the outer garment, were slits through which the hand readily reached the pockets of the inner garment, and could there deposit any booty. He was a slim, agile lad, with a sharp but not vulgar expression, and small features. His hands were of singular delicacy and beauty. His fingers were very long, and no lady's could have been more taper. A burglar told me that with such a hand he ought to have made his fortune. He was worth a week, he said, as a "," that is, a picker of ladies' pockets. When engaged "for a turn," as he told me he once was by an old pickpocket, the man looked minutely at his fingers, and approved of them highly. His hands, the boy said, were hardly serviceable to him when very cold. His feet were formed in the same symmetrical and beautiful mould as his hands. "I am ," he said. "My father was a potter, and I can't recollect my mother" (many of the thieves are orphans or motherless). "My father has been dead about years. I was then working at the pottery in , , earning about a week; in good weeks, I was in work months after my father died; but day I broke bottles by accident, and the foreman said 'I shan't want you any more;' and I took that as meant for a discharge; but I found afterwards that he did'nt so mean it. I had and a suit of clothes then, and tried for work at all the potteries; but I couldn't get any. It was about the time fair was on. I went, but it was a very poor concern. I fell asleep in a pen in the afternoon, and had my shoes stolen off my feet. When I woke up, I began crying. A fellow named Gyp then came along (I knew his name afterwards), and he said, 'What are you crying for?' and I told him, and he said, 'Pull off your stockings, and come with me, and I'll show you where to sleep.' So I did, and he took me to St. Olave's workhouse, having sold my stockings. I had never stolen anything until then. There I slept in the casual ward, and Gyp slept there too. In the morning we started together for , where he said he had a job to sweep the pens, but he couldn't sweep them without pulling off his coat, and it would look so queer if he hadn't a shirt—and he hadn't . He promised to teach me how to make a living in the country if I would lend him mine, and I was persuaded— for I was an innocent lad then—and went up a gateway and stripped off my shirt and gave it to him, and soon after he went into a publichouse to get half a pint of beer; he went in at door and out at another, and I didn't see him for months afterwards. That afternoon I went into market and met some boys, and said, 'Mate, how long have you been knocking about; where did you doss?' I didn't know what they meant, and when they'd told me they meant where did I sleep? I told them how I'd been served. And they said, 'Oh! you must expect that, until you learn something,' and they laughed. They all know'd Gyp; he was like the head of a gang once. I became a pal with these boys at , and we went about stealing fish and meat. Some boys have made in a morning, when fish is dear—those that had pluck and luck; they sold it at half-price. market is a good place to sell it; plenty of costermongers are there who will buy it, rather than of the salesmen. I soon grew as bad as the rest at this work. At I sold it to other boys, who would get for what they bought at Now they can't do me. If I can get a thing