"Will you
take your ticket for Custom House or Tidal Basin?" he repeated;
"either will do for Victoria Docks."
"Then whichever you please," said I, as politely as I could.
The young man took out two tickets and snapped them impatiently in
something; and as a fat woman was squeezing me from behind, I was glad
to take what I could get and go back to Fred.
He was taking care of our two bundles and the empty pie-dish.
That pie-dish was a good deal in our way. Fred wanted to get rid of
it, and said he was sure his mother would not want us to be bothered
with it; but Fred had promised in his letter to bring it back, and he
could not break his word. I told him so, but I said as he did not like
to be seen with it I would carry it. So I did.
With a strong breeze aft, we were driven up-stairs in the teeth of a
gale, and ran before a high wind down a platform where, after annoying
one of the railway men very much by not being able to guess which was
the train, and having to ask him, we got in among a lot of
rough-looking people, who were very civil and kind. A man with a black
face and a white jacket said he would tell us when we got to Custom
House, and he gave me his seat by the window, that I might look out.
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