"I have not," said he, as we were proceeding thither, "confined my
collection to objects connected with capital offenders only; it
comprehends relics of every grade of crime, from murder to petty larceny.
In that respect I am liberal, sir."
We had now reached the door of the apartment, when my conductor, seizing
my arm suddenly, pointed to the door-mat upon which I had just set my
foot, and said, "Observe that mat, sir; it is composed of oakum picked by
the fair fingers of the late Lady Barrymore, while confined in the
Penitentiary."
I cast a glance at this humble memorial of her late ladyship's industry,
and passed into the museum. In doing so, I happened to stumble over a
stable-bucket, which my friend affirmed was the one from which Thurtell
watered his horse on his way to Probert's cottage. Opening a drawer, he
produced a pair of dirty-looking slippers, the authentic property of the
celebrated Ikey Solomons; and along with them a pair of cotton hose, which
he assured me he had mangled with his own hands in Sarah Gale's mangle. In
another drawer he directed my attention to a short clay pipe, once in the
possession of Burke; and a tobacco-stopper belonging to Hare, the
notorious murderer. He had also preserved with great care Corder's
advertisement for a wife, written in his own hand, as it appeared in the
weekly papers, and a small fragment of a tile from the Red Barn, where
Maria Martin was murdered by the same Corder.
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