The rain had been falling heavily through the night.

It was raw and gusty, and thick clouds were sailing wildly overhead, as I went to the first train for Preston.

It was that time of morning when there is a lull in the streets of Manchester, between six and eight.

The "knocker-up" had shouldered his long wand, and paddled home to bed again; and the little stalls, at which the early workman stops for his half-penny cup of coffee, were packing up.

A cheerless morning, and the few people that were about looked damp and low spirited.