reasonable that the interest of both should be consulted; is it, my good friend?"
"What then?" demanded Monks sulkily.
"I saw it was not easy to train him to the business," replied the Jew; "he was not like other boys in the same circumstances."
"Curse him, no!" muttered the man, "or he would have been a thief long ago."
"I had no hold upon him to make him worse," pursued the Jew, anxiously watching the countenance of his companion. "His hand was not in; I had nothing to frighten him with, which we always must have in the beginning, or we labour in vain. What could I do? Send him out with the Dodger and Charley? We had enough of that at first, my dear; I trembled for us all."
"That was not my doing," observed Monks.
"No, no, my dear!" renewed the Jew, "and I don't quarrel with it now, because, if it had never happened, you might never have clapped eyes upon the boy to notice him, and so led to the discovery that it was him you were looking