The steamers that bring these aliens to London always land them at one of three places--Tilbury Docks, the Upper Pool, or St. Katherine's Docks. Wapping is the worst of the three places of landing. Here the steamers lie out in the middle of the Thames; the passengers are bundled into boats, the watermen in charge of which will endeavour before landing to get as much out of them as they possibly can. They are landed in different places, their luggage is thrown out of the boat, and they find themselves alone in a strange land unable to make known where they wish to go. But they are not left long in their loneliness. A number of human sharks, generally foreign Jews also, surround them, anxious to see in what way they can take advantage of their ignorance and friendlessness. The worst foes that have to be contended against are some of the East End boarding-house keepers. These men will meet the new-comers, address them in "Yiddish," say that they are connected with some of the Jewish charities, and tell them that they must allow their luggage to be collected. When this is done, they get together as many as possible before being stopped by the real agents of the Jewish Homes, and march them off, not to where the unfortunates think they are going, but to some of the boarding-houses in Spitalfields. Arrived there, the aliens undergo a process of sifting. Those who are absolutely destitute, and without money or baggage, from whom there is nothing to be got, are quickly dismissed, and sent in charge of a child to the Poor Jews' Temporary Shelter in Leman Street. But those who have money and baggage are advised to stay a day or two until they can "look about them." Then the fleecing commences. A charge is made of from two shillings to five shillings a week for a wretched shake-down bed; but the lodger has to pay the full week if he only stays one night. Food is charged in proportion. The next morning, as soon as the lodger has finished his breakfast, a man is deputed to go with him in search of employment. This man will tramp his victim all round London, it need scarcely be said with no success; in the evening he will bring him back to the boarding-house, saying they must try again the next day. The following morning the same routine is gone through, and with the same result. For each day's service a charge of five shillings is made. These gross charges are made day after day until the unfortunate individual has nothing left but his luggage. The boarding-house keeper sympathizes with his dupe; he tells him he is not an unkindly man, and will lend him a trifle on his luggage. This little is soon swallowed up in the cost of living, and when it is all gone the boarding-house keeper informs him he is very sorry, but he must have his room for some one else. The man is turned into the street, friendless, penniless, and homeless, and finds himself in very truth a "destitute alien."