Now, if we mean to go, we had better get on board, for in another
minute the deck will be covered, and we shall not find room to stand.
That's right; make sure of a seat while you may! How they swarm on
board, and what a choice sample they present of the mixed multitude of
London! The deck is literally jammed with every variety of the
pedestrian population--red-breasted soldiers from the barracks,
glazed-hatted policemen from the station, Irish labourers and their
wives, errand-boys with notes and packages, orange-girls with empty
baskets, working-men out for a mouthful of air, and idle boys out for
a 'spree'--men with burdens to carry, and men with hardly a rag to
cover them; unctuous Jews, jabbering Frenchmen, and drowsy-looking
Germans--on they flock, squeezing through the gangway, or clambering
over the bulwarks, while the little vessel rolls and lurches till the
water laves the planks on which you stand. In three minutes from her
arrival she has discharged her old cargo, and is crammed to
overflowing with a new one. 'Back, there: overloaded already!' roars
the captain. 'Let go; turn ahead; go on!'--and fiz! away we go,
leaving full half of the intending voyagers to wait for the next boat,
which, however, will not be long in coming.
'Bless me, how we roll about from side to side!' says an anxious old
lady. 'Is anything the matter with the boat, that it wabbles so?'
'Only a little krank, marm; it's all right,' says the person
addressed.
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