'But if sixty people want to be called at all sorts of irregular hours, how does the awakener manage to know his duties?' I asked. 'Oh, we chalk on our doors or shutters the time, and that way he knows. Phil is to be depended upon always. But he very nearly lost the work a year ago, and it was a shame. Some fellow wanted to step into his shoes, and morning after morning went and altered the chalkings, so that we were either called two hours before our time, or over-slept ourselves, and so got into trouble. There was no end of quarrels and misunderstandings till the trick was found out. And I think the rascal who did it deserved a ducking--only, you see Phil is such a little fellow he couldn't give it him.' 'It was a dastardly trick!' I exclaimed with indignation, bidding the man good-bye. Another speaking acquaintance of mine was an old man whose duty consisted in sweeping down the steps which were submerged at high-tide, but quite bare at low-water. I had often seen him at work cleansing from mud and silt step by step as the tide receded; and now it occurred to me that from the nature of his occupation he, of all others, must work at the most irregular hours. It was a dull wintry morning, but the old man was working cheerfully at his accustomed task, which, as the water was getting low, was very nearly completed. He was pale and thin, but had that air of decent respectability which happily is often seen in the very humblest classes. I opened the conversation in true English fashion by a remark on the weather, asking his opinion as to the probability of rain. 'Snow more likely,' he answered laconically, but quite civilly. 'I daresay you are right,' was my reply, 'for I should think you are one of the weather-wise people.' 'Ought to be, if there's anything learned in being always twelve hours in the four-and-twenty out of doors all seasons,' was the rejoinder. 'Rather hard work for you, my man,' I said sympathisingly. 'I don't complain. There's lighter work to be sure, but there's some that's a deal heavier; and after being at it so many years, maybe it comes easier to me than it would to another. I was only fifty-five when I began, and now I'm seventy-three.' 'And is it necessary that you should work all the six hours that the tide is ebbing?' I asked, really desiring the information. 'Quite necessary,' he replied, descending a step, and plying his broom vigorously as he spoke. 'Why, if I did not begin at the beginning and go on regularly, the mud would harden, and I should have to drag up buckets of water to wash the steps with. And gentlefolks want nice clean steps going to the boats.' 'I suppose you are glad when your work does not happen to be in the dead of the night?' I observed.