I mark'd thee 'midst thy betters, and with eye
Distinguishing arrested thy deceit!
Dar'st thou confront the envied worth thou ap'st
Confess'd to open day? Come forth to view;
Nought will avail thy name and face assumed
And regal head with George's laurel bound:
Thy telltale paleness speaks thee counterfeit.
Lives there a beggar wretch, with hunger prest,
Would take thee offered? Thou art known so well,
The honest tradesman will not sell thee wares.
The gawky clown, too late, alas! has found
He took a sharper when he harbour'd you.
I've got thee safe; no more expect to thrive
By cheating innocence; in durance firm
I'll fix thee, to deter thy bastard race.
Thus many a harvest, by deceit and fraud,
The cunning juggler thrives; till, by success,
He grows less cautious, nor to wheedling maids
By promis'd sweethearts, he his art confines;
But in ill-fated hour attempts to trick
More knowing townsmen; they averse to frauds,
Or take his greasy galligaskins down,
And birchen smart inflict; or shut in cage,
To curse his fortunes and atone his crimes.
The ill-directed ingenuity which procured for the town its nickname, and gave to all things which pretended to be what they were not the questionable title of "Brumagem," was displayed in other ways than in making counterfeit coin, Mr. M. D. Hill gives a curiously illustrative anecdote of this corrupt practice in the once important branch of industry, the Buckle trade:—"In the days," he writes, "when buckles were an important branch of trade in Birmingham, large quantities were made of a white alloy, bearing some slight resemblance to silver popularly called 'soft tommy.' The workmanship was on a par with the material. Each was so thoroughly vile that the artizans, though well drilled in such contemptible handicraft, were for once ashamed of the products of their labour. A manufacturer, it is said, entered a workshop unseen by his men, heard one of them, who had just finished buckle, throw it down with a hearty curse on the wearer who was to
