mely Jerry Juniper and the knight of Malta. What became
of the Caper Merchant's son after his flight from Kilburn Wells we have
never been able distinctly to ascertain. Juniper, however, would seem to
be a sort of Wandering Jew, for certain it is, that _somebody very like
him_ is extant still, and to be met with at Jerry's old haunts; indeed,
we have no doubt of encountering him at the ensuing meetings of Ascot
and Hampton.

As regards the knight of Malta--Knight of _Roads_--"Rhodes"--he should
have been--we are sorry to state that the career of the Ruffler
terminated in a madhouse, and thus the poor knight became in reality a
_Hospitaller_! According to the custom observed in those establishments,
the knight was deprived of his luxuriant locks, and the loss of his
beard rendered his case incurable; but, in the mean time, the barber of
the place made his fortune by retailing the materials of all the black
wigs he could collect to the impostor's dupes.

Such is the latest piece of intelligence that has reached us of the
_Arch-hoaxer_ of Canterbury!

Turpin--why disguise it?--was hanged at York in 1739. His firmness
deserted him not at the last. When he mounted the fatal tree his left
leg trembled; he stamped it impatiently down, and, after a brief chat
with the hangman, threw himself suddenly and resolutely from the ladder.
His sufferings would appear to have been slight: as he himself sang,

He died, not as other men, by _degrees_,
But _at once_, without wincing, and quite at his ease!

We may, in some other place, lay before the reader the particulars--and
they are not incurious--of the "night before Larry was stretched."

The remains of the vagrant highwayman found a final resting-place in the
desecrated churchyard of Saint George, without the Fishergate postern, a
green and grassy cemetery, but withal a melancholy one. A few recent
tombs mark out the spots where some of the victims of the pestilence of
1832-33 have been interred; but we have made vain search for Turpin's
grave--unless--as is more than probable--the plain stone with the simple
initials R. T. belongs to him.

The gyves by which he was fettered are still shown at York Castle, and
are of prodigious weight and strength; and though the herculean robber
is said to have moved in them with ease, the present turnkey was
scarcely able to lift the ponderous irons. An old woman of the same city
has a lock of hair, said to have been Turpin's, which