ich was pulled off by a single rower for the
same purpose was drawn too near the fire, and its brave occupant
perished. So eager were the multitude on the bridge to witness these
scenes that some of themselves were forced over the parapet into the
river and drowned.

Comical incidents were strangely mingled with these awful scenes,
although it is but justice to say the prevailing tone of the crowd was
one of solemnity. Itinerant vendors of ginger-beer, fruit, cakes, and
coffee ranged themselves along the pavements and carried on a brisk
trade--especially after the public-houses were closed, many of which,
however, taking advantage of the occasion, kept open door all night.

Among these last was the "Angel," belonging to Gorman.

That worthy was peculiarly active on this occasion. He never neglected
an opportunity of turning an honest penny, and, accordingly, had been
engaged from an early hour in his boat collecting tallow; of which
plunder a considerable amount had been already conveyed to his abode.

Besides Gorman, several of the other personages of our tale found their
way to the great centre of attraction, London Bridge, on that night.
Among them was John Barret, who, on hearing of the fire, had left his
snug little villa and pretty little wife to witness it.

He had already made one or two cheap trips on one of the omnibuses, and,
about midnight, got down and forced his way to a position near the south
side of the bridge. Here he was attracted to a ginger-beer barrow which
an unusually adventurous man had pushed through the crowd into a
sheltered corner. He forced his way to it, and, to his amazement, found
the owner to be his former friend Ned Hooper.

"Hallo! Barret."

"Why, Ned!" were the exclamations that burst simultaneously from their
lips.

"This is a strange occupation," said Barret with a smile.

"Ah, it may seem strange to you, no doubt, but it's familiar enough to
me," replied Ned, with a grin.

The demand for beer was so great at this time that Ned could not
continue the conversation.

"Here, boy," he said to an urchin who stood near, "you draw corks as
fast as you can and pour out the beer, and I'll give you a copper or two
and a swig into the bargain."

The boy accepted the post of salesman with alacrity, and Ned turned to
his friend and seized his hand.

"Barret," said he, in a low, earnest voice, "if I succeed in holding
out, I own my salvation, under God, to you. I've tasted