came running on the jetty, and cried, " All on
board! to be inspected by the surgeon;—all
on board!"

But leaving the jetty, let us walk still along
the quays. Cranes are ever busy between
the ships and the sheds. You enter a shed—
the air is heavy with sugar—a yellow pile of
it, looking like clay, lies on the floor, and a
couple of shovels are busy at it. Or oblong
cases are piled up, through the crevices of
which it oozes out, muddily. Passing under
another roof, you see casks of tobacco as far
as the eye can reach, which impregnate the
air so that you could imagine yourself living
in the bowl of a gigantic pipe, recently smoked.
By-and-bye you see huge layers of cork piled
up: and near them various large square
beams lying together. What are the beams ?
You would never guess—they are going
out as beam-rafters for a church in Nova
Scotia.

By this time, we have skirted the waterside;
the water lying very smooth, of a dead
faint blue colour, and drawn near the opposite
end towards the Shadwell entrance. A bridge
parts in the centre, and makes a passage for
a ship coming into the docks—empty, as you
see, by the green side of copper gleaming
above the water. She looks gaunt and bare.
The labourers in her are working away at
the capstan; the rope which drags her along
is as stiff as a bar. It is our fatal Phantom
Ship! which bears an unappreciated Henry
Rubley, Esq., to another hemisphere. I must
give you some account of the process by which
a ship is prepared for sailing, and the various
people employed, one way or another, in
getting her ready.

When the ship-owners have determined to
employ a certain ship, they appoint a captain.
The captain brings her out of a dry dock or
basin, according to circumstances, by the
aid of a particular class of men, known as
"lumpers." The broker is employed by the
owners to get freightage for her; and he
duly enters her before loading at the "Custom
House," and announces her as about to sail.
The cargo is put on deck by the labourers
belonging to the Docks, and stowed by the
"lumpers" engaged by the captain. The
stowage is conducted by " stevedores," under
the superintendence of the mate, on whom this
regular duty devolves. Meanwhile, the captain
attends Lloyd's, the brokers, and the owners,
and engages the crew; signing their agreement
in the presence of a government shipping
master. The crew do not come on board till
she is on the point of sailing. Then the
broker lodges an account of the goods at the
Custom House. The Custom House " clears
her." She drops down to Gravesend (usually,
now-a-days, has a steam tug to take her to
the Downs), and spreads her sails to the wind,
free, at last. What various individuals have
to be employed before the wind has its way!
What distinct classes were set in motion
before our ship was enabled to announce (as
I regret to say she has done) that she would
sail immediately! I shall not easily forget
her dreary look when she was first brought
in. I went on board her by a sort of springing
board (on which, being unused to the kind of
thing, I bounded like the clown at Astley's).
The carpenters had just come on board to
begin her fittings; I gazed fearfully down
into the hold, where there was a ghastly
heap of rough stones lying, which formed the
ballast. And the lower deck was a rude mass
of ropes, spars, and buckets.

During this disagreeable portion of her
history, presenting in itself no noticeable
features, I wandered about the decks generally,
observing their features, and learning
their modes of working. One is much struck
by the convenience they afford to merchants,
merely as a depôt for goods; thus, Messrs.
Bludger may keep a large amount of property
there, till they sell it or send it abroad again,
if they like, the duty not having to be paid
till the goods are taken away. Meanwhile,
the Docks are responsible, generally, for the
duty on all the taxable articles they contain.
Their profits are derived from certain payments
known as "rates " and " dues." I will
give an example, popularly. Take a pipe of
wine, for instance (in a literary sense, I
mean), just imported by the above-mentioned
Messrs. Bludger, and worth fifty pounds;
the London Docks land it, cooper it, are
responsible for it, and deliver it within a
month, for seven and sixpence! If Messrs.
Bludger do not want to take it away, the
Docks keep it for them in a vault, at five
pence a week, including superintendence.
Vessels pay rent at a rate of one penny per
register ton, per week. You may notice here,
that, from the nature of the case, dock business
is a fluctuating one, which makes the
question of labour difficult. A prevalence of
easterly winds keeps, perhaps, the shipping
out for days and days.

As one might expect, the precautions
against fire in a place which a candle could
easily turn into a funeral pile, of an awful
character, are carefully taken. The Dock
company have organised fire-brigades of their
labourers; have arranged to secure boundless
supplies of water, immediately ready; their
officials live near the spot; there are the
watchmen patrolling at night, and at night,
also, there is a section of the Metropolitan
Police in attendance. Of course, there are
regulations concerning lights, and the smoking
of our foreign friends (who sleep in their
ships) is duly looked after; it being better,
to use Hood's pun, to "eye the pipe," than
to have to " pipe the eye! " But these regulations
are not so severe as elsewhere; in
Liverpool, for example, no lights are allowed
in the ships in dock, at night, at all.

The London Docks have a workshop of
their own, full of beautiful machinery, where
they make all sorts of mechanical implements
for their own use. There, an engine works