paupers and prisoners, a delicacy in speaking to and acting before
ladies, and a tact in little things, utterly foreign to the great
majority of poor Anglo-Saxons, and not by any means too common in even
higher classes.

For example, there was a basket of cakes on the table, which cakes were
made like soldiers in platoons. Now Mr Katzimengro, or Scissorman, as I
call him, not being familiar with the anatomy of such delicate and
winsome maro, or bread, was startled to find, when he picked up one
biscuit de Rheims, that he had taken a row. Instantly he darted at me an
astonished and piteous glance, which said--

"I cannot, with my black tinker fingers, break off and put the cakes back
again; I do not want to take all--it looks greedy."

So I said, "Put them in your pocket." And he did so, quietly. I have
never seen anything done with a better grace.

On the easel hung an unfinished picture, representing the Piper of
Hamelin surrounded by rats without number. The Gipsy appeared to be much
interested in it.

"I used to be a rat-catcher myself," he said. "I learned the business
under old Lee, who was the greatest rat-catcher in England. I suppose
you know, of course, sir, how to _draw_ rats?"

"Certainly," I replied. "Oil of rhodium. I have known a house to be
entirely cleared by it. There were just thirty-six rats in the house,
and they had a trap which held exactly twelve. For three nights they
caught a dozen, and that finished the congregation."