MASTER HEYWOOD PROTESTS 121

the drifting mist; and, higher up, old London Bridge,
lined with tall houses, stretched from shore to shore. There
were towers on it with domes and gilded vanes, and the
river foamed and roared under it, strangled by the piers.
From the dock at St. Mary Averies by the Bridge to Barge-
house stairs, the landing-stages all along the river-bank
were thronged with boats ; and to and fro across the stream,
wherries, punts, barges, and water-craft of every kind were
plying busily. In middle stream sail-boats tugged along
with creaking sweeps, or brown-sailed trading-vessels
slipped away to sea, with costly freight for Muscovy, Tur-
key, and the Levant. And amid the countless water-craft
a multitude of stately swans swept here and there like
snow-flakes on the dusky river.

Nick sniffed at the air, for it was full of strange odors
- —the smell of breweries, of pitchy oakum, Norway tar,
spices from hot countries, resinous woods, and chilly
whiffs from the water; and as they came out along the
wharf, there were brown-faced, hard-eyed sailors there,
who had been to the New World—wild fellows with silver
rings in their ears and a swaggering stagger in their pet-
ticoated legs. Some of them held short, crooked brown
tubes between their lips, and puffed great clouds of pale
brown smoke from their noses in a most amazing way.

Broad-beamed Dutchmen, too, were there, and swarthy
Spanish renegades, with sturdy craftsmen of the City
guilds and stalwart yeomen of the guard in the Queen’s
rich livery.

But ere Nick had fairly begun to stare, confused by