arm, which is in reality nothing but rubbish. These quasi smuggled goods however are only by-play compared with the real games by which the poor emigrant is heartlessly robbed of all that he possesses. The chief game of the magsmen is called “wrapping up,” and takes three or four men to work it out. The kid visits the emigration offices and emigrant ships until he falls in with a likely flat. They get into conversation over a friendly glass. The emigrant makes no secret of his destination. The kid becomes very communicative, tells the story of his life, and shows his money, of which he seems to have an abundance. This kind of friendly intercourse goes on for a week or so. The kid then begins to unfold his plans for future emolument. He is going to take out with him a large quantity of goods which are in great demand in the colony. He insinuates his willingness to take the flat into partnership. At this stage the other members of the gang make their appearance, and they are also emigrants. They begin to wonder what they shall speculate in, and at length the kid and his friend take them into their confidence. At last they conclude that the goods in question will be the best investment, and the whole quintette agree to partnership. The question of capital is started, and they are all naturally anxious to know what will be the joint amount. The magsmen put their money upon the table in separate heaps, and the kid and the flat do the same. This is done to ascertain the amount of the flat’s money, and whether it is paper or coin. The money is counted back into the purses, or wrapped up, and no more is said. The kid leaves the company for awhile, and returns. But the cashier has forgotten to book the respective amounts, and so the money must all be counted out again upon the table. The cashier counts it, and his friends ask him to put it into their purses or wrap it up for them. When he is counting the flat’s cash the rest of the gang get up an excitement, in which they absorb the flat’s attention. The cashier quickly puts flash money into the victim’s parcel and hands it to him. They gradually leave the room, and the flat is stripped of all he has in the world. If these or other iniquitous measures fail, the last resort is to drug the emigrant’s drink.
In addition to forged and spurious notes, the police often find a number of spurious bills upon the magsmen. These bills are generally for show and sometimes for use. The history of them has been kindly furnished to me by a respectable accountant of considerable experience. As some poor tradesmen read this brief sketch it will recall to their recollection days and nights of agony and despair. These spurious bills first came into use about five-and-twenty years ago, just at the time when common people became too wide awake to be any longer duped by flash notes. These bills consist of drafts in the usual form, signed, and accepted, and bear several indorsations. They differ from forged bills in not pretending to bear the signature of any well-known firm. If intended for circulation in London, they are dated at some remote town, and addressed to imaginary firms in the provinces; but if wanted for provincial circulation, the drawer resides in the country and the acceptor in London. They are manufactured chiefly if not entirely in London, and there is good reason for the belief that there are not more than three or four manufacturers of the “long firm.” The mode of putting them into circulation is this:—The London fabricator has his agent in several large towns, who employs for scouts such persons as attornies’ clerks, bailiffs, and pawnbrokers. These give information of all persons who are embarrassed. The principal agent then makes his own private inquiries, and having selected his victim, sends his name with all necessary particulars to London. The chief forthwith despatches a circular to the victim, setting forth the various causes which may occasion temporary embarrassment even to firms of undoubted respectability. The circular urges the importance of preserving credit unimpeached, and that by accepting temporary assistance such firms may overcome their difficulties; and having thus dressed up the bait, the circular kindly offers any amount of accommodation by return of post, provided satisfactory references can be given. The embarrassed tradesman swallows the bait and sends his references. He receives a reply that all is satisfactory, and that on remitting five per cent, of the amount required, he shall receive bills drawn and accepted by firms of the first respectability. Poor wretch! driven to desperation by some frightfully urgent engagement which must be met, he scrapes together cash enough for the purpose, sends it to his benefactor, and receives the worthless bills, accompanied by a second circular informing him that he must provide for the bills on maturity. Should he not be able to do so, the circular says he may obtain a second accommodation at reduced prices. The confiding tradesman soon finds out that he has been swindled. Should inquiry be instituted at the place from which the circulars are addressed, it turns out to be some low shop or house, the inmates of which know nothing of the parties sought; they merely receive his letters and keep them until called for. Some twenty-five years ago this system of knavery was at its climax. It is now nearly extinct, but the magsmen avail themselves of it in all sorts of ways whenever an opportunity occurs. The bills are easily detected by a practised eye. They have not at all a commercial look about them. The handwriting is stiff and feigned; its sameness being feebly disguised by different kinds of ink.
Those who have studied human nature for themselves, by observing the huge masses who congregate on race-courses, will have come to the conclusion that races are very questionable in their associations, and that gambling, swindling, bubble bets, and foul play are but two rife upon our race-courses. The Welchers who now throng and annoy the stands are magsmen all. They pocket their winnings, but keep far enough out of the way to make their escape from their gambling creditors. These Welchers are generally the landlords of some low gambling-house, and eke out their winter living by the aid of “picking up” women. Out of the racing season others of them wander about the country with a hawker’s licence. The thieves who attend races are called