—"A famous university," observes Ned Ward, in the London Spy, "where, if a man has a mind to educate a hopeful child in the daring science of padding; the lightfingered subtlety of shoplifting: the excellent use of jack and crow; for the silently drawing bolts, and forcing barricades; with the knack of sweetening; or the most ingenious dexterity of picking pockets; let him but enter in this college on the Common Side, and confine him close to his study but for three months; and if he does not come out qualified to take any degree of villainy, he must be the most honest dunce that ever had the advantage of such eminent tutors. “WHAT a place! “Stuffy isn’t the word for it. . They were in different key, they had a different timbre. “Really, daddy, I am sorry for all I have done to put you out. ” “I suppose not. The stench is everywhere. That any human being could conceive and execute such a thing! A Roundhead, here in these prosaic times!—and mad as a hatter! Trying the rôle of St. I had left Paris. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor.
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