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[Illustration: _Connoisseur (smoking cigarette stump just thrown away
by passer-by)_. "EITHER TERBAKKER ISN'T WOT IT WOS--OR THESE 'ERE
TOFFS AIN'T."]

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At the far end of the market is the river Thames; and on the river
Thames there is a ship or two chockful of fish. Fish-porters with a
kind of _blase_ animation run up and down a long gangway to the ship
with six-stone boxes of fine fresh whiting on their heads. These
boxes they pile up on a chute (carefully noting each box in their
note-books), after which an auctioneer auctions the boxes. This is the
really exciting part of the show. The dealers or the dealers' agents
stand round in a hungry ring and buy the boxes of fish as they slide
down the chute. The dealers seem to detail a less cultured type of man
for this purpose, and few of the bidders come up to the standard of
refinement of the fish-porters. But the auctioneer understands them,
and he knows all their Christian names. He can tell at a glance
whether it is Mossy Isaacs or Sam Isaacs. He is a very clever man.

They stand round looking at the boxes of fish, and when one of them
twitches the flesh of his nose or faintly moves one of his eyelashes
it means that he has bought six stone of whiting for thirty shillings.
That is the only kind of sign they give, and the visitor will be wise
not to catch the auctioneer's eye, or blow his nose or do any overt
action like that, or he may find that he has bought six stone of
salmon and halibut for forty-five shillings. At an auction of fish it
is true to say that a nod is as good as a wink; in fact it is worse.

The dealers are silent motionless men; but nobody else is. Everybody
else is dashing about and shouting as loud as he can. As each box of
fish is sold the porters dash at it and shout at it (of course in a
very gentlemanly way) and carry it off in all directions. It is quite
clear that nobody knows who has bought it and where it is going. The
idea of the whole thing is to impress the visitor with the mobility
of fish, and this object is successfully attained. No doubt when the
visitors have gone away they settle down and decide definitely whom
the fish belongs to.

It is now about half-past six. Fish is still rushing in at one end
from the ship and is rushing in at the other from the railway-vans.
The porters are throwing the fish at the dealers' stalls (registering
each hit