ne meets references to Garraway's.

The Dean immortalized it in his well-known lines on 'Change Alley:

"There is a gulf where thousands fell,
Here all the bold adventurers came,
A narrow sound, though deep as hell,
'Change Alley is the dreadful name.

"Subscribers here by thousands float
And jostle one another down.
Each paddling in his leaky boat,
And here they fish for gold and drown.

"Meantime secure on Garraway's cliffs
A savage race by shipwreck fed,
Lie waiting for the foundered skiffs
And strip the bodies of the dead."

Dickens also makes it the scene of the writing of the famous chops and
tomato sauce letter from Mr. Pickwick to Mrs. Bardell.

One can imagine the elation of my friends as they sat around that little
table at Garraway's. It was only 10:35. Their income that morning had
been $150,000. And many more such days had gone before. All danger was
over, wealth was won. They saw themselves back in America, among the
Four Hundred, possessors of a fortune, however wrongfully obtained, yet
obtained in a way that would leave behind no ruined widows and orphans
to linger out the remainder of their blighted lives in poverty and
misery. That was a point which added zest to their enjoyment of the
prospect.

"I am never to go to the bank again. Come, shake hands on that," said
Noyes. And in their excitement and wild delight they shook hands again
and again.

But they would have moderated their joy had they known that at the very
moment the bank porter, pale and frightened, was rushing past the room
where they sat, carrying the news to the bank that the two-thousand
pound bill was a forgery. Instantly all was confusion and excitement in
the bank. Telegrams were at once sent to the detective police, and at
that moment swarms of them were pouring out of the Bow street and
Scotland Yard offices.

That already stories of gigantic frauds, multiplied a thousand fold by
rumor, were flying everywhere that every bank in London was victimized.
In ten minutes the story reached the Stock Exchange and a scene of
terrific excitement ensued, and, through it all, our three innocents sat
on in that dingy old coffee-house, serenely unconscious of the fearful
storm that was rising. Still they were safe. Everything was confusion in
the bank. The terrified official, frantic with fear, could only describe
a tall young man, an American, who said his name was Warren.

Had my three triump