&quot;MOVE OX!&quot; 179 



&quot; Move on ! move on, if you please, gentlemen,&quot; says a 

 policeman. The crowd tramps hastily behind us. We turn 

 and are sucked into the motley channel, which soon throws 

 us out from the bridge upon a very broad street ; up this, in 

 a slackening tide, we are still unresistingly carried, for it is 

 London, and that was what we were looking for ; and for a 

 while we allow ourselves to be absorbed in it without asking 

 what is to become of us next. 



