the lawyers of the poor. And even while we write, and even while ye
read, many a Grabman steals from helpless toil the savings of a life.

Ye poor hoards,--darling delights of your otherwise joyless owner,--how
easily has his very fondness made ye the prey of the spoiler! How
gleefully, when the pence swelled into a shilling, have they been
exchanged into the new bright piece of silver, the newest and brightest
that could be got; then the shillings into crowns, then the crowns into
gold,--got slyly and at a distance, and contemplated with what rapture;
so that at last the total lay manageable and light in its radiant
compass. And what a total! what a surprise to Grabman! Had it been but
a sixpence, he would have taken it; but to grasp sovereigns by the
handful, it was too much for him; and as he rose, he positively laughed,
from a sense of fun.

But amongst his booty there was found one thing that specially moved his
mirth: it was a child's coral, with its little bells. Who could have
given Beck such a bauble, or how Beck could have refrained from turning
it into money, would have been a fit matter for speculation. But it was
not that at which Grabman chuckled; he laughed, first because it was an
emblem of the utter childishness and folly of the creature he was leaving
penniless, and secondly, because it furnished his ready wit with a
capital contrivance to shift Beck's indignation from his own shoulders to
a party more liable to suspicion. He left the coral on the floor near
the bed, stole down the ladder, reached his own room, took up his brief-
bag, locked his door, slipped the key in the rat-hole, where the trusty,
plundered Beck alone could find it, and went boldly downstairs; passing
successively the doors within which still stormed the resurrection-man,
still wailed the child, still shrieked the Irish shrew, he paused at the
ground-floor occupied by Bill the cracksman and his long-fingered,