of the French mail-packet, who was dressed much like a new policeman, with an embroidered collar to his coat, and a broad red band round a forage cap which he raised with great politeness, as he entreated Mr. Jorrocks’s patronage of his high-pressure engine, “vich had beat a balloon, and vod take him for half less than noting.”  A crowd collected, in the centre of which stood Mr. Jorrocks perfectly unmoved, with his wig awry and his carpet-bag under his arm.  “Gentlemen,” said he, extending his right hand, “you seem to me to be desperately civil—­your purliteness appears to know no bounds—­but, to be candid with you, I beg to say that whoever will carry me across the herring pond cheapest shall have my custom, so now begin and bid downwards.”  “Nine shillings,” said an Englishman directly—­“eight” replied a Frenchman—­“seven and sixpence”—­“seven shillings”—­“six and sixpence”—­“six shillings”—­“five and sixpence”; at last it came down to five shillings, at which there were two bidders, the French captain and the tout of the Royal George,—­and Mr. Jorrocks, like a true born Briton, promised his patronage to the latter, at which the Frenchmen shrugged up their shoulders, and burst out a-laughing, one calling him, “my Lor’ Ros-bif,” and the other “Monsieur God-dem,” as they walked off in search of other victims.

None but the natives of Dover can tell what the weather is, unless the wind comes directly off the sea, and it was not until Mr. Jorrocks proceeded to embark after breakfast the next morning, that he ascertained there was a heavy swell on, so quiet had the heights kept the gambols of Boreas.  Three steamers were simmering into action on the London-hotel side of the harbour, in one of which—­the Royal George—­two britzkas and a barouche were lashed ready for sea, while the custom-house porters were trundling barrows full of luggage under the personal superintendence of a little shock-headed French commissionnaire of Mr. Wright’s in a gold-laced cap, and the other gentry of the same profession from the different inns.  As the Royal George lay nearly level with the quay, Mr. Jorrocks stepped on board without troubling himself to risk his shins among the steps of a ladder that was considerately thrust into the place of embarkation; and as soon as he set foot upon deck, of course he was besieged by the usual myriad of land sharks.  First came Monsieur the Commissionnaire with his book, out of which he enumerated two portmanteaus and two carpet-bags, for each of which he made a specific charge leaving his own gratuity optional with his employer; then came Mr. Boots to ask for something for showing them the way; after him the porter of the inn for carrying their cloaks and great-coats, all of which Mr. Jorrocks submitted to, most philosophically, but when the interpreter of the deaf and dumb ladder man demanded something for the use of the ladder, his indignation got the better of him and he exclaimed loud enough to be heard by all on deck, “Surely you wouldn’t charge a man for what he has not enjoyed!”