s, and a top hat and white gloves. For several days an
admiring crowd persistently followed him up and down his beat, a little
way behind like the tail of a comet, the crowd in the road and he on the
path, but the novelty wore off after a time.

At that time the Swan brewery stood at the bottom of Swan Walk on the
River, and between that and the Botanical Gardens was the Skinner's
Company's Dock and barge wharf, where the state barge was kept. Old
Captain May had charge of her, a worthy old man and quite an important
character among the riverside people, as he had the engaging of the
watermen to row the barge on Lord Mayor's Day and other state occasions,
and when they went swan-upping. As they were well fed and well paid it
was considered a desirable appointment. It took eighteen watermen to row
the barge, and I think they were paid one guinea each for the day. We
used to think it a grand sight to see them in their scarlet coats and
badges, breeches, low shoes and silk stockings. It used to be almost a
holiday when they went out, as nobody could stick to his work. The land
between the barge house and the brewery was a rare place to catch eels,
and a favourite place for us boys to lay night lines, as it was always
well ground-baited by the refuse from the brewery. I have taken
twenty-four eels off twenty-five hooks on a night line. There used to be
a grand day's sport for us boys once a year at the brewery, on Good
Friday. The drains from the brewery at their outlet on the river were
stopped up by ramming bags of sand in them when the tide was down, and
every boy or man that had a dog (and there were but few who had not)
would arrive as the tide served inside the yard gates in readiness, and
at a given signal the hot liquor from the coppers would be let down the
drains, and in a few minutes out rushed the rats by the score. Away went
the dogs, and as all the outlets were stopped there was a nice scrimmage,
and there being a large number of barrels in the yard that the rats could
get between and the dogs could not, it would last some time, for we had
to move the barrels, and a good many of the rats would get away. I have
seen them run up a barrel and get in the bung hole. They were quite safe
then, and it would drive the dogs almost mad, and we had a job to get
them away.

There were several notable characters along the waterside. One
hard-featured, powerful old man, named Jamie Cator, had the reputation of