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Show The Conscientious Burglar. Reginald was a pleasant old gentleman with a fine sense of humor. He had considerable property, and lived on Wimbledon Common. He had but one beautiful daughter-but that is not to the point. One afternoon, as Old Reginald was reading books in the drawing-room, it was announced to him that a Common Man desired to speak with him. He gave orders that the Common Man should be admitted. And the Common Man was admitted. He was a very Common Man, indeed; a tall, shambling, ill-looking fellow, with an irresolute manner and shrinking eye. He was dressed as ? mongers are dressed when following their ?. "What is your pleasure, good sir," said Old Reginald. "Beg pardon, guv'nor," said the Common Man. "I hope you won't be hard on me." "Not at all," replied Old Reginald. "I'm a burglar," said the Common Man. "Indeed!" said Reginald. "Take a chair." "Thank you kindly, guv'nor," said he, "but I'd rather stand." And he did stand. So far there is nothing very credible in my story. But it gets more remarkable as it goes on. "How do you like your profession?" said Old Reginald. "Well, guv'nor," said the Common Man, "I don't like it noways, and that's it." "That's what?" "That's why I'm here. I belongs to a gang of twelve wot's working these parts just now. We crack cribs by turns. It's-it's my turn to-night." And the burglar wept like a child. "This, I presume, is remorse," said Old Reginald. "No, guv'nor, it ain't remorse," said the burglar;" it's Funk." "The same thing," said Reginald. "It ain't the being a burglar that I object to. It's the having to commit burglaries. I like the credit of it, sir; it's the danger I object to." "I see." "Now, by the laws of our gang, we're bound to crack cribs in turn. That is to say, one of us cracks the crib, while the other eleven stop' outside and gives the office." "I thought burglars worked in twos or threes," sai Old Reginald. "P'raps I ought to know best," said the burglar. "Perhaps you are right. Indeed, I am sure you ought to know. What crib do you propose to crack to'night?" "This here one." "Mine?" "Your'n." "Oh!" Old Reginald prepared to ring the bell. "Please don't do that, guv'nor. You ain't never a-goin' to give me into custody. "I think I had better." "No, no, guv'nor, don't do that. Listen to me first. I ain't a goin' to hurt you. It's my turn to crack your crib to-night. Now, will you help me?" "I hardly see my way," said Old Reginald, thoughtfully, "Still if I can be of any use-" "Look here, guv'nor, each member of our gang is bound to get fifty pound worth of swag from each crib he cracks. If he don't, he's shot. Now, I saw a handsome silver and coffe-pot and cream jug as I came in here. Wot would be the value of that handsome silver and coffee pot?" "The cream-jug is ?. The coffee pot, with sugar-basin and silver, may be worth five and forty pounds." "That's near enough. I'll take ‘em. Here is a ? for fifty quid." And he handed Old Reginald a bank note for that amount. "Still I don't quite understand-" "I want you, guv'nor, to be so good as to leave your bed-room window open to-night, and place that silver coffee-pot and them silver traps where I can get ‘em. I shall have cracked my crib, bagged my swag, and made myself safe until my turn comes round again." "Certainly," said Old Reginald, holding up the note to the light. "But let me know how you can afford to pay so handsomely for your depredation." "There was a dozen of us, sir. Each of us cracks a crib in four months, and each of us swags at least fifty pounds worth-often more, but at least that. After each plant the profits are divided. Last quarter the twelve cribs cracked brought us in eleven hundred pounds-that's ninety odd pounds apiece. When my turn comes I pay a fair price for the fifty pounds worth I swag, (for I have been honorable brought up), and gets forty pounds to the good, And forty pounds a quarter is a hundred and sixty pounds a year, and I lives on it. Sometimes it's more-now and then it's less, and whatever it is I lives on it." And the honest fellow took a receipt for the note and departed Old Reginald was as good as his word. He left his bed-room window open and placed the silver where the honest burglar was as good as his word, and at two in the morning he came in and found it. So far all was simple and straightforward enough. But now comes the curious and incredible part of my story. The fifty-pound note was part of the proceeds of a previous burglary. The number of the note was known and traced to Old Reginald, who had to account for its' being in his possession. Now the twelve burglars had, in the meantime, been arrested by the police (this also was incredible), and sentenced to penal servitude for life. So Old Reginald had no hesitation in stating thes facts as I have stated them. No one believed him, as no one will me. So he appealed to the hones burglar to corroborate his story. But the honest burglar, having discovered the whole thin, coffee-pot, silver and all, was the commonest elecro, was so shocked at Old Regnald's dishonesty that, not only did he decline to corroborate his story, but actually, and I think very properly, identify him as an accomplice. And Old Reginald was also sentenced to penal servitude, and he ad the honest burglar worked for many years together on the same works, and had many opportunities of talking the matter over form its moral, social and political point of view.-Selected. |
