under our feet, which might have been
intended for a ground plan of the "Maze" at
Hampton Court, or the Catacombs at Paris.
They were, in reality, sections of the embryo
cabin accommodation; but whether intended
to guide the work-people or to puzzle the
visitors, was not clear. On one side, near the
wicked ladder, an anxious group of emigrants
were listening in breathless silence to the
explanation given by a very young broker's
clerk, in spectacles, as to the ground plan of
the Maze. He pretended to make them
understand where the port-holes would be
cut through—one in each cabin; where the
doors were to be placed; the precise spots
where the sleeping-places and the tables
would be found by and bye—with a variety
of other matter, which might as well have
been told in the Esquimaux tongue. All
listened with open mouths; and, when the
young spectacles ceased and moved on to
another group, they looked with a kind of
hopeless credulity at each other.

In the stern of the ship, a numerous party
had congregated round a little white deal
coffin-like sort of a cabin—a model prison in
miniature—run up in half-an-hour, just to
show the passengers that the Jeremy Diddler
was not going to do things like common
ships. It was extremely amusing to see how
anxiously and curiously the many visitors
were scrutinising that wretched packing-case.
I could imagine them to have been admiring
and gloating over the suite of Austrian
apartments in the Great Exhibition. To be sure, the
fittings set oft the thing rather smartly; but,
I don't remember seeing any cabin of that same
size in the Diddler, when I visited her afterwards ;
and certainly none with such polished
chairs, drawers, and wash-stand, nor with such
exquisite white bedding in them. The effect of
this one cabin was perfectly marvellous.
There seemed to be something magical about
the very wood-work: the door was moved to
and fro as if it were expected to play tunes
on its hinges; the brass hooks were eyed by
more than one with a view to see if they
were not of real Australian gold. As for the
swing-tray, I am sure several young women
believed it to be some sort of cot for an
infant; while others gazed on the little neat
shelves, the sly drawers under the bed, the
hanging lamp, and the sea-chest, as reverently
and cautiously as if they had all been
dangerous tricks in a pantomime, chock full of
secret springs and sudden transformations.

It was easy to see that of the whole crowd
of uninitiated subjects of Her Majesty, very
few indeed, if any, descended the narrow plank
to the jetty, with a more approximate idea of
how they were to be cabined and dieted, than
when they left their homes in the morning.
All they could have dreamed of, that night
would be a confused jumble of crooked
chalk-lines, port-holes, swing-trays, and
bulkheads; but, whether they had to go through
the port-holes to their beds, or whether they
would dine upon the swing-trays, or whether
the bulk-heads had any bodies or limbs
attached to them, would be far beyond their
comprehension. I could scarcely believe my
senses, when I read in a morning paper some
twelve days or so after my visit to the Docks,
a notice to passengers by the Jeremy Diddler,
informing them that they must be prepared
to join that vessel at Gravesend on the
following day. Having satisfied myself
that there was really no mistake about
the thing, but that she would positively
anchor off the town of Gravesend at the time
named, I prepared to take my departure by
steamer, in order that I might see the last of
her and her human cargo on this side the blue
waters.

The same boat which conveyed me from
Blackwall carried several parties, evidently to
the same destination. There were two or
three newly wedded couples, brought together,
doubtless, on the strength of future "Diggings;"
a knot of oily-headed, sleek-visaged shopmen,
and City clerks; a few hale-looking country
lads and lasses; and a rather extensive family
of nondescripts; all of whom, by their conversation,
were passengers for the Jeremy
Diddler. The morning had been what
nautical men term "breezy," and when
we reached the Terrace Pier at Gravesend,
the wind had become quite violent in its
proceedings, committing assaults of an outrageous
description on the dresses of the lady passengers:
so much so, that the police of the
Corporation might very well have interfered and
indicted it before the mayor for disorderly
and riotous conduct. As for the shipping
at anchor off the town, it was, evidently,
but little better: some of the outward-
bounders had no doubt been taking a parting
glass with the old Custom-house hulk off the
Ordnance wharf, and were rather the worse
for it. They were rolling, and staggering,
and bobbing about, winking their port-holes
at each other, and flirting their blue-peters in
the air, in a way that no respectable, steady-
going vessels would think of doing. It was
quite clear, that one or two among them
meant to make a night of it, from the
determined way in which they kicked up their
keels, and splashed the water over decent
wherries and passenger-boats.

I was rather glad to scramble up the black
and white sides of the Diddler, out of the
overloaded boat, where the young married
women were screaming as they were being
packed by twos in a cask and hauled up,
while the oily-headed shopmen looked in
dismay at the rope-ladder over the side, and
wished in their hearts they were females, for
the sake of the tub and pulley.

Well, there I was, once more, on the deck of
this very fast-sailing, clipper-built, copper-
fastened, passenger ship, bound to the Gold
Regions, by the advertisement in the Times—
but, I should have thought, sailing to Botany
Bay, by the dismal misery written on the faces