Two Eccentric Depositors

During my twenty years’ experience as cashier of a large London bank, I have come across many strange events, and stranger people, upon whose histories it is interesting to look back. 

I propose on this occasion to relate to the reader two little episodes of my experience, showing the curious kind of people who sometimes come forward to deposit their money, in response to the banks’ advertisement.  

One day, some years ago, a rough looking man, of singular appearance, came slouching into the bank, and walking up to my desk, took off his hat respectfully, and held it in his hand. Now it is a strange fact, that it is not usual in London for any one to take off his hat on entering a bank, although I believe it is done in some country banks; so I looked at the man with some suspicion, expecting to hear a pitiful story, with a pathetic appeal for assistance. He was dressed in ill-fitting black clothes; a black silk handkerchief was wound around his neck in many folds, no shirt-collar being visible. His hands looked rough and horny, like those of a laboring man. No trace of whiskers appeared on his well-shaven face, and a certain good-natured expression which it wore was marred by a villainous squint. He was, apparently, about sixty; his hair was quite gray, and was arranged upon each of his temples in those strong circular curls, which are vulgarly known as “Newgate knockers.” Altogether, he had a most unprepossessing appearance, something like what you would expect to see in a retired burglar. He stood hat in hand before my desk, respectfully waiting until I should be disengaged. He then said apologetically: 

“Beg your pardon. sir, but could I speak to you for a few minutes?” 

I replied, of course, that I was at his… Read More