154 MR. F ARRANGE 



It was said, although Mr. Farrance could never be got 

 to admit it, that he was the veritable person who met a 

 man coming down his own stairs backwards with a good 

 feather-bed on his shoulder. 



'What have you got there, my man?' said Mr. 

 Farrance. 



' A bed, sir, for you,' was the reply. 



' Nonsense,' was the rejoinder ; ' it is not for me.' 



1 No. 22, Belgrave Square, sir.' 



' Ah,' said Mr. Farrance, ' I thought so. It's next 

 door.' 



And the man turned and bore the bed off in triumph 

 before its owner's eyes ; for of course the trick was not 

 discovered until too late. 



Thefts of this kind are common in London as black- 

 berries in a country lane ; and publicans especially are 

 liable to be sufferers in this way. Within my own ex- 

 perience I have known one or two similar instances, 

 which may be worth relating, if only for the sake of 

 instruction ; although I fear precept will be useless, as 

 the danger comes in a form so unexpected. 



Mr. Wagstaff, a friend of mine, and a very good fellow, 

 who, besides being in an extensive way of business as a 

 coal-merchant, kept The Hero of Waterloo Hotel in the 

 Waterloo Eoad, close to the South- Western Station, was 

 robbed in the most barefaced way imaginable. A man 

 with a paper cap on his head, and a white apron wound 

 round his body, made his appearance in the coffee-room, 

 where many customers were sitting at luncheon (in Mr. 

 Wagstaff's absence, we may be sure), and after looking 

 intently at the clock that hung over the mantelpiece, re- 

 marked to himself in audible tones : 



1 1 have had more trouble with that clock than I ever 

 had with one before ;' and turning to the waiter, went 



