Altogether it was the most "scarecrowy" apparition I ever came across.
"Shine 'e boots, master ?" he cried, flourishing a blacking-brush in either hand, and standing across my path.
I stopped short, and answered solemnly, "Where's that sixpence you stole out of my pocket, you young thief ?" I expected he would be overawed and conscience-stricken by the sudden accusation.

But instead of that he fired up with the most virtuous indignation.
"What do yer mean, young thief?
I ain't a-goin'-- Oh, my Jemimer, it's one of them two flats.

Oh, here's a go! Shine 'e boots, mister ?" There were certainly very few signs of penitence about this queer boy.
This was pleasant, certainly.

Not only robbed, but laughed at by the thief, a little mite of a fellow like this! "I've a great mind to call a policeman and give you in charge," said I.
He must have seen that I was not in earnest, for he replied, gaily, "No, yer don't.

Ef yer do, I'll run yer in for prize-fightin', so now." "How much do you earn by blacking boots ?" I asked, feeling an involuntary interest in this strange gutter lad.
"Some days I gets a tanner.