In the midst of the great wilderness-we might almost say the wilds-of thatcomparatively unknown region which lies on the Surrey side of the Thames, justabove London Bridge, there sauntered one fine day a big bronzed seaman of middleage. He turned into an alley, down which, nautically speaking, he rolled into ashabby little court. There he stood still for a few seconds and looked around him asif in quest of something.It was a miserable poverty-stricken court, with nothing to commend it to thevisitor save a certain air of partial-cleanliness and semi-respectability, which didnot form a feature of the courts in its neighbourhood."I say, Capting," remarked a juvenile voice close at hand, "you've bin an sailed intothe wrong port."The sailor glanced in all directions, but was unable to see the owner of the voiceuntil a slight cough-if not a suppressed laugh-caused him to look up, when heperceived the sharp, knowing, and dirty face of a small boy, who calmlycontemplated him from a window not more than a foot above his head. Fun, mischief, intelligence, precocity sat enthroned on the countenance of that smallboy, and suffering wrinkled his young brow
ThriftBooks sells millions of used books at the lowest
everyday prices. We personally assess every book's quality and offer rare, out-of-print treasures. We
deliver the joy of reading in recyclable packaging with free standard shipping on US orders over $15.
ThriftBooks.com. Read more. Spend less.