r would do
anything--pray, sir, do you wish to be taken for a German sausage, or a
German student?--they're all the same, sir--speak at once."

The faltering fraction denies the student, and repudiates the sausage.

_Sir Peter_, still looking at the hair, from which external sign he
evidently derived all his information--"You were drunk, sir."

"I was," faltered the Samsonian schneider.

"I know it, sir--you are fined five shillings, sir--but if you choose to
submit to the deprivation of that iniquitous hair, which has brought you
here, and which, I repeat, will make you do anything, I will remit the
fine."

A sigh, fine-drawn as the accidental rent in an unfinished skirt, escaped
the hirsute stitcher: a melancholy reflection upon the infinite deal of
nothing in his various pockets, and the slow revolving of the Brixton
wheel in stern perspective, wrung from the quodded wretch a slow assent:
Sir Peter sent a City officer with his warrant to secure the nearest
barber: a few sharp clickings of the envious shears--and all was over!
Crime fell from the shoulders of the quondam culprit, and the tonsorial
innocent stood forth confessed!

Sir Peter was entranced. That was his doing! He gazed with pride upon the
new absolved from sin. He asked, "Are you not more comfortable?"

All vice had gone, save one--the young man answered "Yes," and _lied_.

"Then, sir, go home."

"The barber," muttered "soft Roe" in as soft a voice.

"What of him?"

"Wants a shillin'."

"There it is," exclaimed the Augustine Peter, "there, from my own pocket,
paid with pleasure to preserve that youth from the evil influence of too
much hair--I'll pay for all the City if they like--and banished suicide,
and I'll pretty soon see if I can't settle all the City crops. Prisoner,
you are discharged."

The young man lost his hair, the Queen five shillings, and Sir Peter one;
but then he gained his end,--and docking must henceforth be looked upon as
the treadmill's antidote, and young man's fines' best friend. We therefore
say, should the iniquity of your long locks, gentle reader, take you to
the station (for, remember, Sir Peter says, _Long hair will do anything_),
if you can't find bail, secure a barber, and command your liberation. We
have been speculating of these externally-illustrated grades of crime; we
think the following nearly correct:--

The long and lank indicates larceny (petty and otherwise).

The bushy and bountiful--burglary.