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For
his
long
lib
at
last
.
Bing
'd
out
bien
Morts
and
toure
,
and
toure
,
Bing
out
of
the
Rome
vile
bine
,
And
toure
the
Cove
that
cloy
'd
your
duds
,
Upon
the
Chates
to
trine
.
'
(
From
'
The
English
Rogue
.
'
London
,
1665
.
)
Conversation
followed
;
not
in
the
thieves
'
dialect
of
the
song
,
for
that
was
only
used
in
talk
when
unfriendly
ears
might
be
listening
.
In
the
course
of
it
,
it
appeared
that
'
John
Hobbs
'
was
not
altogether
a
new
recruit
,
but
had
trained
in
the
gang
at
some
former
time
.
His
later
history
was
called
for
,
and
when
he
said
he
had
'
accidentally
'
killed
a
man
,
considerable
satisfaction
was
expressed
;
when
he
added
that
the
man
was
a
priest
,
he
was
roundly
applauded
,
and
had
to
take
a
drink
with
everybody
.
Old
acquaintances
welcomed
him
joyously
,
and
new
ones
were
proud
to
shake
him
by
the
hand
.
He
was
asked
why
he
had
'
tarried
away
so
many
months
.
'
He
answered
--
"
London
is
better
than
the
country
,
and
safer
,
these
late
years
,
the
laws
be
so
bitter
and
so
diligently
enforced
.
An
'
I
had
not
had
that
accident
,
I
had
stayed
there
.
I
had
resolved
to
stay
,
and
never
more
venture
country-wards
--
but
the
accident
has
ended
that
.
He
inquired
how
many
persons
the
gang
numbered
now
.
The
'
ruffler
,
'
or
chief
,
answered
--
"
Five
and
twenty
sturdy
budges
,
bulks
,
files
,
clapperdogeons
and
maunders
,
counting
the
dells
and
doxies
and
other
morts
.
Most
are
here
,
the
rest
are
wandering
eastward
,
along
the
winter
lay
.
We
follow
at
dawn
.
"
