...its the robber's 'uman rights y'see.
What about the Topiary Rights of the tree the last thief crashed into?
Anedote warning! As an exchange student in the States, I bet that I could raise ten thousand dollars for the humane treatment of sewer rats. In an hour or two on Park Avenue I raised a million and change (the "change" was a coupla hundred thousand -- how soon we become blasé!). The Charities Commissioner wouldn't let us give it back; we were stuck with our grotesquely successful joke; we were the butt of our own joke. It was awfully hard to find projects for the humane treatment of sewer rats to spend the money on. The only reason my chums and I didn't go to jail is that the Charities Commissioner was a political pal of my sponsor, who was also my best chum's and my girlfriend's father -- they would have shared my cell. Years later I heard from my banker that at the Brook Club they had a good laugh at our antics to get ourselves out of trouble, and a betting ring about how fast we would be able to spend what was then a considerable amount of money on such an unlikely "cause". After that searing experience, you'll have to excuse me from fundraising, or even voting for, the humane treatment of bicycle thieves.
