In one corner lay a Sailor fast asleep, having taken so much ballast on board as to prevent the possibility of any longer attending to the log, but with due precaution resting his head on a bundle which he intended to take on board his ship with him in the morning, and apparently well guarded by a female on each side; in another was a weather-beaten Fisherman in a Guernsey frock and a thick ~294~~ woollen night-cap, who, having just arrived with a cargo of fish, was toiling away time till the commencement of the market with a pipe and a pint, by whose side was seated a large Newfoundland dog, whose gravity of countenance formed an excellent contrast with that of a man who was entertaining the Fisherman with a history of his adventures through the day, and who in return was allowed to participate in the repeatedly filled pint--a Waterman in his coat and badge ready for a customer--and two women, each having a shallow basket for the purpose of supplying themselves with fish at the first market for the next day's sale. 'Going to Gravesend, Gentlemen?' enquired the Waterman, as Tom and Bob took their seats near him. “No,” was the reply. “Beg pardon, Sir; thought as how you was going down, and mought want a boat, that's all; hope no offence.” “I vas down at the Frying Pan in Brick Lane yesterday, (said the communicative adventurer;) Snivelling Bill and Carrotty Poll was there in rum order--you know Carrotty? Poll? so Poll, (Good health to you) you knows how gallows lushy she gets--veil, as I vas saying, she had had a good day vith her fish, and bang she comes back to Bill--you knows she's rather nutty upon Bill, and according to my thinking they manages things pretty veil together, only you see as how she is too many for him: so, vhen she comes back, b------tme if Bill vasn't a playing at skittles, and hadn't sold a dab all day; howsomdever he was a vinning the lush, so you know Bill didn't care--but, my eyes! how she did blow him up vhen she com'd in and see'd him just a going to bowl and tip, she tipp'd him a vollopper right across the snout vhat made the skittles dance again, and bang goes the bowl at her sconce instead of the skittles: it vas lucky for her it did not hit her, for if it had, I'll be d------d if ever she'd a cried Buy my live flounders any more--he vas at play vith Sam Stripe the tailor; so the flea-catcher he jumps in between 'em, and being a piece-botcher, he thought he could be peace-maker, but it voudn't do, tho' he jump'd about like a parch'd pea in a frying-pan--Poll called him Stitch louse, bid him pick up his needles and be off--Bill vanted to get at Poll, Poll vanted to get at Bill--and between them the poor Tailor got more stripes upon his jacket than there is colours in a harlequin's breeches at Bartlemy Fair--Here's good health to you--it was a ~295~~ bodkin to a but of brandy poor Snip didn't skip out of this here vorld into that 'are?” “And how did they settle it?” enquired the Fisherman.