the tide is all-important. For five hours in
the day it washes the foot of the wharves, for seven a wide expanse of
mud stretches away to Canvey Island in front, and Southend Pier to the
east.

At the wells--for Leigh still depends for water on its wells--are,
during the hours at which water is permitted to be drawn, lines of
twenty women and girls with pails, each patiently waiting her turn.
There are not many boys about, for boys require more sleep than men, and
a considerable portion of their time on shore is spent in bed.

It is ten o'clock in the day; the bawleys have returned from the fishing
grounds, and scores of them have anchored in the Ray--a deep stretch of
water lying between the spit of sand that extends from the end of Canvey
Island close up to Southend Pier, and the mud-flats of Leigh. The flats
are still uncovered, but the tide is rising fast in the winding channel
leading up to the village. In a few minutes there will be water enough
for the boats, and already these can be seen leaving the bawleys and
making for the mouth of the channel. The wind is fair, and each boat
hoists its sail, white or yellow or brown, and with the crew sitting up
to windward comes flying along the shallow channel, making, as they
always do, a race of it home.

The boats are large and roomy, and are, as they need to be, good
sea-boats; for they have at times to live in rough water that would
swamp lighter craft like cockle-shells. Each boat carries two men and a
boy, that being the regular crew of a bawley; although, perhaps, for
rough winter work, they may sometimes take an extra hand. In the bow of
the first boat that comes tearing along up to the wharf sits a
good-looking lad, about fourteen years old. His face is bronzed with the
sun and wind, his clothes are as rough and patched as those of the other
fisher lads; but although as strong and sinewy as any of his companions
of the same age, he is somewhat slighter in his build, more active in
his movements, and has a more springy and elastic walk in spite of the
heavy boots that he wears.

He helps the others to land several baskets of shrimps, and carry them
to the railway-station hard by. They are already boiled, for the bawleys
carry coppers, into which the shrimps are baled straight from the nets,
so that they are in readiness to send off to town as soon as they are
landed. When the baskets are all piled on the platform he crosses the
line, follows it along for some