Welcome to Beastly Tales. Each has a message, a moral. All are meant to have an element of humour. Naturally, any names included do not depict real folk but are included as part of the joke.
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(As with Beastly Banter Beastly Tales is written and illustrated by Richard Hersel.)
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Richard Hersel
BEASTLY TALES
THE PICKPOCKET
In olde England, in the days of yore,
When Oliver Twist famously asked for “more”,
And Fagan was a pickpocket master,
From New Durham to greater Doncaster,
Instructing his lads, “Better pick a pocket or two”,
And boiling silk snot rags in a foul brew,
Then to hang them out to quickly dry,
Never questioning the wherefore or why,
It might not be proper to snitch wallet or bags,
From proper gents or even old hags.
“You have to closely mingle with people”,
“From Market Square to the Church Steeple”
“You have to be so very, very close”,
“Even if that seems to be somewhat gross”.
“You must seek out secret pockets”,
“For pearls, jewellery, necklaces with lockets”
“And don’t forget other jewellery things”,
“Like brooches, bracelets and loose rings”.
“And certainly do not think to ask”,
“As deftly you take his hip flask”.
Pickpockets are more skilful than thieves or foot pads,
Delicate dexterity applied by those cads.
Pickpockets, of course, rely on a “fence”,
To receive stolen goods worth pounds to pence.
Gentlemen wearing very nice Toppers,
Would squeal and scream for the coppers,
To prosecute with full weight of the law.
That justice be done as you always saw.
Nathaniel Knickerbocker was a skilled purse lifter,
An artisan he was, not just a drifter,
He could lift all manner of different things,
Wallets, purses, bags, jewellery and rings.
He could even take silk snot rags, belts and braces,
Indeed he was one of the pickpocket aces!
He never got caught, out on the job,
So skilful, never short of a “bob”,
He deigned to refer “pickpocket” to his trade,
But used a speciality term to increase his grade.
Just as you have a bevy of artisan “Smiths”,
(Blacksmith, GoldSmiths, SilverSmiths),
Nathaniel insisted on being called a “FingerSmith”,
That is the trade name he really preferred,
And naught else would do if anyone erred,
To think of him as just a common criminal,
Was to not well consider his thoughts subliminal.
One day he was out harvesting, richly reaping,
Wallets, purses and other contrivances for keeping,
Valuables safe, but not very well,
When up against the fingers of Nathaniel.
Yes, there’s no safety to be felt,
From a secret pocket or money belt.
It transpired that his activities so improper,
Were clearly observed by a very fat copper.
“Oi” said the copper, a man of few words,
“I’ve had enough of you pickpocket turds”,
“You stop right now in the name of the law”.
(This, for Nathaniel, would be a big chore)
“I know your sort, you’re only a dirty pickpocket,
But Nathaniel was up and away like a rocket.
The copper gave chase, but with no real vigour,
If a gun he’d had, he would have pulled the trigger.
It soon became evident, that very day,
That Nathaniel had sprinted far, far away.
But as he felt the copper behind,
He retorted, “Hey fatso, are you quite blind?”
“A pickpocket I’m not, such a low class.”
“FingerSmith I am, you silly fat ass!”
Always remember the pickpocket Slogan;
“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine”,
“Payment don’t ever try to decline”,
“I have a quite high overhead,”
“Lots of people want me dead!”
