"These niches are over the piers of the bridge," said Mr. George, "I suppose. Let us look over and see."
So they stopped a moment and looked over the parapet. They beheld a turbid and whirling stream pouring through the bridge, under the arches, with a very rapid current, and at
the instant that they looked down, they saw the bows of a small steamboat come shooting through. The deck of the steamer was crowded with people—men, women, and children. Some were standing, and others were sitting on benches that were arranged round the side and along the middle of the deck; all, however, in the open air.
"I wonder where that steamer is going," said Rollo.
"Down the river somewhere," said Mr. George; "perhaps to Greenwich or Woolwich."
"Up the river, you mean," said Rollo. "Don't you see she is going against the current? See how swift the water runs under the arches of the bridge!"
"Yes," said Mr. George; "but that current is the tide, coming in from the sea. This way is down towards the mouth of the river. See all this shipping here! It has come up from the sea." Here Mr. George pointed with his hand down the river, waving it from one side to the other, so as to direct Rollo's attention to both shores, where there lay immense forests of shipping, three or four tiers deep on each side, and extending down the river as far as the eye could penetrate into the thick and murky atmosphere. Besides the tiers of shipping which lay thus
along the shores of the river, there were two other ranges, each three or four tiers wide, out in the stream, leaving a broad, open passage between them, in the middle, and two narrower passages, one on each side, between them and the shore.
"It is a city of ships," said Rollo, "with streets of open water."
"Yes," said Mr. George, "it is indeed."