Punch (72.1877)

106

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

[March 10, 1877.

" I am ruined! " exclaimed William. The Water-Bailiffs advanced, each armed with the necessary

Mary wept on her father's shoulder, and the crowd was visibly ; dock-warrant. . „ .

moved. "The Albert Ross is not fit to leave the dock! " cried the un

The Stevedore smiled grimly.
" You cannot pay ? " inquired the Warden.
" I cannot! " answered William, despairingly.
" Then," said the Warden, raising his voice, and beckoning to a
couple of men whose blue coats, cocked hats, and short cutlasses,
betokened their official capacity, " Water-Bailiffs, do your duty! "

"Sorry for it, Mister Bill," said the two men; "but duty is
duty! "

" Do it, you two Samuels ! " returned William.
The two Water-Bailiffs, who were two brothers of the name of
Samuels (abbreviated into " Sam," and known as Flop Sam and
Jet Sam), produced a warrant and a pair of handcuffs.

"Never!" cried Mart, as, quitting her,father, she threw her

happy William, as the minions of an unjust and cruel law—which
I hope everyone will help me to abolish—approached.

" Not leave the dock!" exclaimed the first Water-Bailiff.
"What dock?"

"This! " replied William, stoutly, pointing to the dock where
they were standing. " This is the dock I mean."

" Nay ! " answered the Bailiff, producing a dock-warrant for his
arrest. " This is the dock-you-meant ! "

The jest was cruel, but not so cruel as the Law which occa-
sioned it.

So William was led away to gaol by his captors.
Whoever you are who read this, help the poor Sailors, and don't
let them be sent to sea unless they like! Oh, ye Gentlemen of

arms about William. I England, who live at home at ease, how little do you think upon the

" Stay! " said the Warden, bestowing a'glance of intelligence on dangers of the seas when the stormy winds do blow-ow-ow, when
the Stevedore. "William can either go to prison, or,—take his | the stormy winds do blo-ow-ow-ow! But I, the spinner of this

yarn, know all
about it; I
haven't nearly
met my death on
board a merchant
ship at sea, and
got a berth in a
model lodging-
house on shore,
fornotbing. But,
my lads, t have
a tale to tell, and
I must heave a-
head!

Chapter IV.

A Scene at
Lloyd's.

While Wil-
liam was cooling
his heels and his
heated brain in a
prison-cell, the
Spanish Steve-
dore had gone up
to town.

He drove to
Cornhill, and,
after a short
parley with a
gentleman in
official costume
(of whom more
anon), he entered
the Long Boom
at Lloyd's
Coffee House,
where the
Writers, In-
surers, Shippers,
and Skippers do
congregate. The
business, as con-
ducted here, is,

in general, fair and honest enough. But Lloyd's profit is not
altogether unalloyed with risk. Now, "risk" means "speculation,"
and speculation must involve dishonesty.

It will be as well at this point, in order to thoroughly interest my
reader (or readers—for I trust I have more than one, and, if I have
not, I '11 send copies, gratis, all over the world), that I should give a
clear and exact account of the constitution of Lloyd's.
The first question naturally is—Who is Lloyd ?
I give the answer. Here it is:—

The gentleman in the official costume above alluded to, who, for
the sake of respectability, and to impress visitors with an idea of
the high character of the business, is dressed in the same style as is
the beadle in a church. This is Mr. Lloyd himself, or one of the
family !! ! He it is who takes an enormous per-centage on all the
profits, while incurring no risk. He it is into whose pockets fall all
the profits accruing from the coffee consumed in Lloyd's Coffee-
House. He it is who receives the entrance-fees from the new
members, and accepts the immense sums which are paid by Tide-
waiters wishing to serve the customers in the Coffee-House. And,
finally, he it is who has the sole right to admit, alter, and arrange
the charts and maps kept in the establishment, and he it is who
alone receives the gratuities daily—nay, hourly—presented by the
members to the custodian of their hats, coats, umbrellas, and sticks,

passage, as Purser, aboard the Albert Ross, which sails to-night.
Choose at once ! " Mary looked up in his face beseechingly. The
Water-Bailiffs paused.

Chapter III.—How the Bait is offered to our poor Sailors.

William Tailleur eyed the good ship Albert Ross.
A clerk stepped forward with pen and ink.

"If you like to sail on board this craft," said the Junior Warden
of the Sink Port, who was, privately part-owner with the Stevedore,
trading under the name of the firm before mentioned, "you shall
marry my daughter when my ship comes home.'"

Mary turned her beautiful eyes up toward the skies, and then
kissed her parent.

Will Tailleur could no longer hesitate.

" Give me the pen! " he cried. And, taking the quill and paper
from the clerk, he signed the Articles.

A smile of triumph passed over the faces of the Junior Warden
and the Stevedore.

Mary bade William a tender farewell, and withdrew.

Five minutes after William had gone aboard, he returned.

"I will not sail in the Albert Ross / " he protested, firmly. " She
is unseaworthy ! "

" To gaol then with him I " cried the Warden, furiously.