Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea.
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