, all the day long.
Come this way, my friend; here we are opposite the Adelphi Theatre,
and this is the man who used to be a black man, or else it's another,
who does duty as talking finger-post, and shews you, if you are a
stranger, how you are to get at the half-penny boat. Come, we must
dive down this narrow lane, past the 'Fox under the Hill,' a rather
long and not very sightly, cleanly, smooth, or fragrant thoroughfare;
and here, in this shed-looking office, you must pay your half-penny,
which guarantees you a passage all the way to London Bridge. Look
alive! as the money-taker recommends--the _Bee_, you see, is already
discharging her living cargo, and others are hurrying on board. The
boat won't lose time in turning round--she goes backwards and forwards
as straight as a saw, and carries a rudder at her nose as well as one
at her tail. Never mind these jolting planks, you havn't time to
tumble down--on with you! That's it: here, on this floating-pier,
manufactured from old barges, we may rest a moment, while the boat
discharges her freight, and takes on board the return cargo. You see
the landing-stage or pier is divided into two equal portions; the
people who are leaving the boat have not yet paid their fare; they
will have to disburse their coppers at the office where we paid ours,
there being but one paying-place for the two termini.
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