The Black Lion in Whitechapel, where Joe Willet took his frugal dinner after having settled his father's bills with the vintner in Thames Street, and where on another occasion, having determined to enlist in the Army, he met the recruiting sergeant, may have existed in those days, but that cannot be determined definitely. There certainly was a Black Lion Yard there, and maybe, at one time, an inn of that name stood close by, exhibiting the sign, which, we are told, was painted by the artist under instructions from the landlord "to convey into the features of the lordly brute whose effigy it bore as near a counterpart of his own face as his skill could compass." The result was "rather a drowsy, tame and feeble lion; and as these social representatives of a savage class are usually of a conventional character (being depicted, for the most part, in impossible attitudes, and of unearthly colour) he was frequently supposed by the most ignorant and uninformed among the neighbours to be the veritable portrait of the host as he appeared on the occasion of some great funeral ceremony or public mourning." This inn was the scene too of the meeting of Dolly Varden and Joe when the valiant soldier returned from the defence of the "Salwanners" minus an arm; and of the interview of the youthful couple when they came to that very pleasant understanding, after an enjoyable supper. The Crooked Billet, the headquarters of the recruiting sergeant, where Joe, "disconsolate and downhearted, but full of courage," was enrolled "among the gallant defenders of his native land," was in Tower Street, so we are told; and we read that, having taken the King's shilling, he was "regaled with a steaming supper of boiled tripe and onions, prepared, as his friend assured him more than once, at the express command of his Most Sacred Majesty the King." After he had done ample justice to it he was "conducted to a straw mattress in a loft over the stable, and locked in there for the night." Until 1912 there actually was an old weather-beaten public-house with that name at No. 1 Little Tower Hill, at the corner of Shorter Street. It was a very fine specimen of eighteenth-century architecture, although the frontage was not as old as the rest of the structure. As it would have been standing at the period of the story, no doubt this was the house Dickens had in mind. It was demolished, with other buildings, to conform to the necessity of city improvements.