and from this fact it was named the pickpockets’ quarter of the globe. Sydney is its capital and seat of government. George Street is the Broadway of Sydney. The Cove — God save the name! — is the old Ann Street of Boston; South Street of Philadelphia; River of Styx, Norfolk; Sausage Row, Cincinnati; Five Points or the Hook of New York; Hog Lane of Canton. In fact, it is more than the Ratcliffe Highway of London. There are plenty of old Fagins and old Fagin’s pupils living here. Here you will find all nations mixed up together, eating, drinking, singing, dancing, gambling, quarreling, and fighting. Inns abound here, for which the English, you know, are celebrated. Here is the Sailors’ Inn, the Soldiers’ Inn, the Ladies’ Inn, Punch-Bowl Inn, Shamrock Inn, Thistle Inn, the Ship’s Inn, King’s Arms Inn, and others too numerous to mention, not forgetting the Dew Drop Inn.
One day a boat’s crew of us dropped into the Jolly Sailors’ Inn. It was a large square room. On either side were a number of tables, over which hung various national flags. Under the Russian Bear were seated a boat’s crew, singing the Russian national song. It was given with a will. When they had finished, an English boat’s crew, sitting under the Union Jack, sang:
"When Britain first at Heaven’s command
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang the strain:
Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never, never shall be slaves!"
This was sung several times in true-blue style.
