en busy collecting, instead of
watching his clothes, under the other, and, followed by his friends,
made direct for the vessel.

Everybody knows, or ought to know, what a hoy is--it is a large
sailing-boat, sometimes with one deck, sometimes with none; and the
Unity, trading in bulky goods, was of the latter description, though
there was a sort of dog-hole at the stern, which the master dignified
by the name of a "state cabin," into which he purposed putting Mr.
Jorrocks, if the weather should turn cold before they arrived. The wind,
however, he said, was so favourable, and his cargo--"timber and fruit,"
as he described it, that is to say, broomsticks and potatoes--so light,
that he warranted landing him at Blackwall at least by ten o'clock,
where he could either sleep, or get a short stage or an omnibus on to
Leadenhall Street. The vessel looked anything but tempting, neither was
the captain's appearance prepossessing, still Mr. Jorrocks, all things
considered, thought he would chance it; and depositing his hamper and
sea-weed, and giving special instructions about having his pantaloons
cried in the morning--recounting that besides the silver, and
eighteen-pence in copper, there was a steel pencil-case with "J.J."
on the seal at the top, an anonymous letter, and two keys--he took an
affectionate leave of his friends, and stepped on board, the vessel was
shoved off and stood out to sea.

Monday morning drew the cockneys from their roosts betimes, to take
their farewell splash and dive in the sea. As the day advanced, the
bustle and confusion on the shore and in the town increased, and
everyone seemed on the move. The ladies paid their last visits to the
bazaars and shell shops, and children extracted the last ounce of
exertion from the exhausted leg-weary donkeys. Meanwhile the lords of
the creation strutted about, some in dressing-gowns, others, "full
puff," with bags and boxes under their arms--while sturdy porters were
wheeling barrows full of luggage to the jetty. The bell-man went round
dressed in a blue and red cloak, with a gold hatband. Ring-a-ding,
ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong, went the bell, and the gaping cockneys
congregated around. He commenced--"To be sould in the market-place a
quantity of fresh ling." Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, dong: "The _Royal
Adelaide_, fast and splendid steam-packet, Capt. Whittingham, will leave
the pier this morning at nine o'clock precisely, and land the passengers
at London Br