This is a mere boy.

Are you sure you haven't mistaken the ward, Mr.Pitt ?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard." "Well, I never was more surprised in my life," said the poet,--"never!" "He's just the man _I_ expected to see," observed Hogarth, who, having arranged everything to Thornhill's satisfaction, had turned to look at the prisoner, and was now with his chin upon his wrist, and his elbow supported by the other hand, bending his keen gray eyes upon him, "just the man! Look at that light, lithe figure,--all muscle and activity, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh upon it.

In my search after strange characters, Mr.Gay, I've been in many odd quarters of our city--have visited haunts frequented only by thieves--the Old Mint, the New Mint, the worst part of St.Giles's, and other places--but I've nowhere seen any one who came up so completely to my notion of a first-rate housebreaker as the individual before us.

Wherever I saw him, I should pick him out as a man designed by nature to plan and accomplish the wonderful escapes he has effected." As he spoke, a smile crossed Sheppard's countenance.
"He understands me, you perceive," said Hogarth.
"Well, I won't dispute your judgment in such matters, Mr.Hogarth," replied Gay.

"But I appeal to you, Sir James, whether it isn't extraordinary that so very slight a person should be such a desperate robber as he is represented--so young, too, for such an _old_ offender.
Why, he can scarcely be twenty." "I am one-and-twenty," observed Jack.
"One-and-twenty, ah!" repeated Gay.