They had scarce found their prize consisted of no more than a small prayer-book, a needle case, and a silver thimble, when the woman with a mob at her heels bolted upon them and seized them.  Jones had the pocket in his hand when they laid hold of him, and his associate no sooner perceived the danger, but he clapped hold of him by the collar and cried out as loud as any of the mob, Ay, ay, this is he, good woman, is not this your pocket? By this strategem he escaped, and Jones was left to feel the whole weight of the punishment which was ready to fall upon them.  He was immediately committed to prison, and the offence being capital in its nature, he was condemned at the next sessions, and though he always buoyed himself up with hopes to the contrary, was ordered for execution.  He was dreadfully amazed at death, as being, indeed, very unfit to die.  However, when he found it was inevitable, he began to prepare for it as well as he was able.  His relations now afforded him some little relief, and after having made as ample a confession as he was able, he suffered at Tyburn with the two above-mentioned malefactors, Hawes and Wright, being then but a little above nineteen years of age.

The Life of JOHN SMITH, a Murderer

As idleness is fatal to youth, so it and ill-company become not seldom so even to persons in years.  John Smith, of whose extraction we can say nothing, had served with a very good character in a regiment of foot, during Queen Anne’s wars in Flanders.  His captain took a particular liking to him, and from his boldness and fierce courage, to which he himself was also greatly inclined, they did abundance of odd actions during the War, some of which may not be unentertaining to the reader, if I mention.

The army lying encamped almost over against that of the French king, foraging was become very dangerous, and hardly a party went out without a skirmish.  John’s master, the captain, having been out with a party, and being over powered by the French, were obliged to leave their trusses behind them.  When they returned to the camp, Smith was ordered to lead his master’s horse out into the field between the two camps, that the poor creature might be able to pick up a little pasture.  John had not attended his horse long before, at the distance of about half a mile, he saw a boy leading two others, at the foot of a hill which joined to the French fortification.  As John’s livery was yellow, and he spoke Walloon bad enough to be taken for a Frenchman, he ventured to stake the Captain’s horse down where it was feeding, and without the least apprehension of the risk he ran, went across to the fellow who was feeding his horses under the French lines.  He proceeded with so much caution that he was within a stone’s throw of the boy, before he perceived him.  From the colour of his clothes, and the place where they were, immediately under the French camp, the lad took