bravest smile she could contrive--
"to think of me bein' a mother, at _my_ time o' life!"

CHAPTER V

TEMPORARY EMBARRASSMENTS OF A THESPIAN.

"_Sinner that I am," said the Showman, "see how you are destroying and
ruining my whole livelihood!_"--DON QUIXOTE.

Mr. Sam Bossom, having poled back to the towpath, stepped ashore, made
fast his bow moorings, stood and watched the two childish figures as
they passed up the last slope of the garden out of sight, and proceeded
to deliver his remaining hundredweights of coal--first, however, peering
down the manhole and listening, to assure himself that all was quiet
below.

"If," said he thoughtfully, "a man was to come an' tell me a story like
that, I'd call 'im a liar."

Twice or thrice before finishing his job he paused to listen again, but
heard nothing. Still in musing mood, he scraped up the loose coal that
lay around the manhole, shovelled it in, re-fixed the cover, and tossed
his shovel on board. His next business was to fetch a horse from the
stables at the Canal End and tow the boat back to her quarters; and
having taken another glance around, he set off and up the towpath at a
pretty brisk pace. It would be five o'clock before he finished his
work: at six he had an engagement, and it would take him some time to
wash and titivate.

Canal End Basin lay hard upon three-quarters of a mile up stream, and
about half that distance beyond the bend of the Great Brewery--a
malodorous pool packed with narrow barges or monkey-boats--a few loading
leisurably, the rest moored in tiers awaiting their cargoes.
They belonged to many owners, but their type was well nigh uniform.
Each measured seventy feet in length, or a trifle over, with a beam of
about seven; each was built with rounded bilges, and would carry from
twenty-five to thirty tons of cargo; each provided, aft of its hold or
cargo-well, a small cabin for the accommodation of its crew by day; and
for five-sixths of its length each was black as a gondola of Venice.
Only, where the business part of the boat ended and its cabin began, a
painted ribbon of curious pattern ornamented the gunwale, and terminated
in two pictured stern-panels.

Wharves and storehouses surrounded the basin, or rather enclosed three
sides of it, and looked upon the water across a dead avenue (so to
speak) of cranes and bollards; buildings of exceedingly various height
and construction, some tiled, others roofed with galvanised iron.