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The Garret and the Garden; Or, Low Life High Up
The Garret and the Garden; Or, Low Life High Up
10,16 €
11,29 €
  • We will send in 10–14 business days.
In the midst of the great wilderness-we might almost say the wilds-of that comparatively unknown region which lies on the Surrey side of the Thames, just above London Bridge, there sauntered one fine day a big bronzed seaman of middle age. He turned into an alley, down which, nautically speaking, he rolled into a shabby little court. There he stood still for a few seconds and looked around him as if in quest of something. It was a miserable poverty-stricken court, with nothing to commend it to…
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The Garret and the Garden; Or, Low Life High Up (e-book) (used book) | bookbook.eu

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In the midst of the great wilderness-we might almost say the wilds-of that comparatively unknown region which lies on the Surrey side of the Thames, just above London Bridge, there sauntered one fine day a big bronzed seaman of middle age. He turned into an alley, down which, nautically speaking, he rolled into a shabby little court. There he stood still for a few seconds and looked around him as if in quest of something. It was a miserable poverty-stricken court, with nothing to commend it to the visitor save a certain air of partial-cleanliness and semi-respectability, which did not form a feature of the courts in its neighbourhood. "I say, Capting," remarked a juvenile voice close at hand, "you've bin an sailed into the wrong port."

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In the midst of the great wilderness-we might almost say the wilds-of that comparatively unknown region which lies on the Surrey side of the Thames, just above London Bridge, there sauntered one fine day a big bronzed seaman of middle age. He turned into an alley, down which, nautically speaking, he rolled into a shabby little court. There he stood still for a few seconds and looked around him as if in quest of something. It was a miserable poverty-stricken court, with nothing to commend it to the visitor save a certain air of partial-cleanliness and semi-respectability, which did not form a feature of the courts in its neighbourhood. "I say, Capting," remarked a juvenile voice close at hand, "you've bin an sailed into the wrong port."

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