LETTER FROM LONDON.

NZ Truth, Issue 92, 23 March 1907, Page 7

LETTER FROM LONDON.

THE SHE SLAVERS OF LONDON TOWN.

Kidnapping for the Koritinong.

Scripture Screecher Slung Out Aov Stealing Scholars.

LONDON, January 17, 1907

This is the home of the procuress, The girl snarer flourishes like a pawnbroker m bad times, and boodle accumulates round her person like mussels round a water-washed pile. Here there is a field for her abilities, and hex labors nieet with a big reward. Strum qus strumpets make fortunes by providing dainty delicacies for wheezy whoremongers, and the recruiting ladies from the continent are busy picking up suitable wenches vlor the Magdalene brigades across the Channel. They enlist the maids from the provinces, while the army sergeants grab their lovers, and the devil DANCES A JIG OP JOY. A police inspector informs me that the English girl is m demand on the continent. She Is supposed to he so delightfully verdant that kidnappers * come from far away quarters to jerk temptation before her pavement sraiters as she ambles along the narrow track. The worn-out rakes of Vienna have a longing for her smiles, and she is coaxed to compete with the darkeyed senoritas of Madrid. Her reputation is 'great, and the game flourishes with an ever increasing list of lost, stolen or strayed recorded at the police stations. The cynical sergeant smiles when he hears of the damsel who went out to a situation that existed only m her own mind, and he resents the slander thrown upon Father Thames', when the mother hints that the old grey river is gurgling over her offspring. The London "Cop" knows a considerable lot about the corrugated side of life, and when innocence collides with his experiences he is inclined to be sarcastic. He doesn't ring for grappling irons at first go off, but he whistles "Gay Boulogne" as he takes the description of the missing tart, and wonders what the devil the world is coming to. ,

Quite recently a respectable old merchant of Finsbury Pavement received an early morning call from an anger-inflated lady, who demanded the immediate return m perfect condition, of her daughter. The merchant, with a fast-working eye on a big brolly swinging like the sword of fate above his bump of reverence, inquired how the consignment had got into his clutches, and the woman after giving him a slight tap screeched out that the girl had left home the mornins; previous to take up a position as typist m the old buffer's office. The man protested that his tick-tacker was. engineered by a male biped, who wouldn't move if Gabriel tooted, but the woman fell upon him like an angry whirlwind from the back yard of SJieol,. and when the police arrived he was as limp as an Anti-Socialist manifesto, while the old girl

WAS WORRYING

over the combination lock of the safe, thinking the missing; "tart" was stowed away inside. The bolting girls seem to have a kink for informing their parents they are going to imaginary jobs, and a bible-banging draper m Oxford-street thinks he is the victim of Parisian procuresses, who tell their dupes to give the holy man's name to their parents when departing. His office door was smashed m by the boot of a na.vvy, who was hunting for' a daughter afterwards discovered at Paris, while his reputation has been seriously injured hv angry ladies m pursuit of pets, their imagination having been fired by the stories of humorous employees, who hinted that the old chap had a well-stocked harem out Tootana; way.

But the Continent doesn't receive all' the recruits. The agline; missie, who hpps from the noard-sohool into Recent-street m the pursuit of knowledge, knocks around m suffici-

ent number to give the unco 1 quid palpitation of the' heart if they suspected that the little dears were padding Piccadilly m search of patrons. The ingenue ia m demand, and according to the evidence elicited m the Warton case the played-out prancers circle round her like bits of wood m a whirlpool. Miriam Warton, the Fulfram procuress mentioned m a previous letter to < ( Truth," faced the Old Bailey on Thursday, and after a trial extending over a couple of days was sent into retire Iment for eighteen months. The case attracted much attention on account of the extraordinary performances of the two school girls, daughters of respectable Fulham residents, who attended at Miriam's abode of pleasure during the day, and posed as innocents round their parents' firesides m the evening. Maud Hilt, one of the damsels, who took up the profession on the advice of the woman when only 15 years of age, was supposed to be learning shorthand at

A BLOOMSBURY SCHOOL, and during her four hours' cross-ex-amination on Friday, she informed the Court how the cunning MMam had coaxed her away from the study of Pitman on to. other tracks where she travelled a* a speed rate that would knock the fastest word catcher m the world end ways. Mother Warton ridiculed the idea of any school girl worrying her head over marks resembling the h'hrdlegs of flies, while 'she could be accumulating dollars at a John ,D. Rockefeller rate m other ways, so Maudie jerked the notebook and threw Isaac's maxims to the four winds. With her hair hanging over her shoulders she told the Court how she had taken her in-r structions on the first day, and had slung glances from a rolling optic at giddy old buffers m the Birmingham Arcade and Regent-street, till they put their helms' hard over, and followed the school kids. They captivated seven on the first day out, amd the boodle rolled m on Miriam, like the waters of the Red Sea on the Swashbucklers of Pharaoh ; and matters prospered till Maudie's mother detected the sin creases beneath her daughter's optics, and after a week's detective work she "busted the joint." A sagacious John Dunn standing at the door of the Court handed me this opinion when I was leaving. "Arrah," says he, "there's a divil of a lot more of 'em thrampin' round' the West Ind there whin their silly old mothers think they're addin' twos and threes at the school." I believe he is right. The fact that these two school-girls had for months joined a brigade the direct antipodes of the modest vsehool-miss without their parents detecting any change m their manner, or without one word coming to their ears, proves that many things are possible m a big city where your next door neighbor may be the common hangman off the Rajah of Bhong, without you

BEING COGNISANT OF THE FACT.

The other day a Frenchman, who did a large continental traffic, was h.ooked by the ma of a girl he was then carting joyfully m the direction of "Gay Paree." But 'tis seldom the heavyweight policeman nails the girlgrabber on his own incentive. The female, of course, is a difficult animal to grab, and if she gets to the other side with her prey, the chance of a recovery is small. Years after perhaps they may Sniggle back, but there are hundreds of whom no trace is ever found.

At Shepherds' Bush a few weeks ago a lady who had been acting as a Sunday-school teacher m a local bethel was slung violently out of her honorary position by an irate parson, whose ears were tingling after hearinc; the story of the mother of a 14-year-old pupil who had visited her

teacher's flat. The affair has been hushed up, but from what can be gathered, it appears that the enterprising procuress was m the habit of inviting to her rooms special pupils, and there introducing them to old buffers, who swopped indecent stories witth the teacher, and played games with the scholars fresh from the church. The woman got away scot free, but the parson is going to take special precautions with future applicants, and will require guarantees that their virtue is Al at Lloyds before appointing them as Scripture disseminators. The woman always picked out the girls who laughed when the class was passing over warm passages of the Old Testament, so, m her mind, the old proverb was altered to read, "Everything that titters is not gold," and when the titterers were invited to the flat, the ancient analysts were also asked to see what they thought of the metal. This is a bad,

WICKED OLD PLACE, this London— a place where necessity gets p. ju-jitsu grip on virtue whenever she bumps her, and carries her struggling to the gutter. Money covers the trail of the wealthy old chicken chasers for whom the procuress caters. In the Warton case, lynx-eyed counsel held watching briefs on behalf of "friends" of the school-misses, who were afraid their names might be mentioned m the case -; but counsel ran wide of important cognomens, and Miriam's departure from the dock brought relief. In the case of the two girls, poverty played no part m their downfall, but with thousands of others it is the big lever that jerks them into destruction." The wage paid to the women slaves is scandalous, and the good-lookiirg maid who toils early and late fdr £6 a year and her keep will be judged lightly m heaven if the recording angel writes her down as a "sfcidder." The girl hunter finds the climate a, good friend, for if virtue, like bravery, can only be gauged when under fire, the poverty-strick-en girl who hangs on to the commodity m a climate like this is more deserving of a V.C. than any swashbuckler who ever took the field. And the maid from the provinces, who has tramped London m search of work,-, is the party upon whose tracks the she-slaver sails.

This crowd of virtuous Britishers a»re shocked at small happens 8 outside their own little isle, but the fountain pens of the heavenly recorders run dry as they focus this fogsmeared spot. This is a nation of Chadbands, and the devil winks as he looks through 'their hypocrisy.