The Lifeboat

There existed, not many years ago, a certain street near the banks of old FatherThames which may be described as being one of the most modest and retiring littlestreets in London.The neighbourhood around that street was emphatically dirty and noisy.

Therewere powerful smells of tallow and tar in the atmosphere, suggestive of shippingand commerce.

Narrow lanes opened off the main street affording access towharves and warehouses, and presenting at their termini segmentary views ofships' hulls, bowsprits, and booms, with a background of muddy water and smoke.There were courts with unglazed windows resembling doors, and massive cranesclinging to the walls.

There were yards full of cases and barrels, and great anchorsand chains, which invaded the mud of the river as far as was consistent with safety;and adventurous little warehouses, which stood on piles, up to the knees, as itwere, in water, totally regardless of appearances, and utterly indifferent as tocatching cold.

As regards the population of this locality, rats were, perhaps, inexcess of human beings; and it might have been observed that the former wereparticularly frolicsome and fearless.