Not that the last-adopted denomination had any reference, as might be
supposed, to the three huge wooden instruments on the wharf, employed
with ropes and pulleys to unload the lighters and other vessels that
brought up butts and hogsheads of wine from the larger craft below
Bridge, and constantly thronged the banks; though, no doubt, they
indirectly suggested it. The Three Cranes depicted on the large
signboard, suspended in front of the tavern, were long-necked,
long-beaked birds, each with a golden fish in its bill.

But under whatever designation it might be known--Crown or Crane--the
tavern had always maintained a high reputation for excellence of wine:
and this is the less surprising when we take into account its close
proximity to the vast vaults and cellars of the Vintry, where the
choicest produce of Gascony, Bordeaux, and other wine-growing districts,
was deposited; some of which we may reasonably conclude would find its
way to its tables. Good wine, it may be incidentally remarked, was cheap
enough when the Three Cranes was first opened, the delicate juice of the
Gascoign grape being then vended, at fourpence the gallon, and Rhenish
at sixpence! Prices, however, had risen considerably at the period of
which we propose to treat; but the tavern was as well-reputed and
well-frequented as ever: even more so, for it had considerably advanced
in estimation since it came into the hands of a certain enterprising
French skipper, Prosper Bonaventure by name, who intrusted its
management to his active and pretty little wife Dameris, while he
himself prosecuted his trading voyages between the Garonne and the
Thames. And very well Madame Bonaventure fulfilled the duties of
hostess, as will be seen.

Now, as the skipper was a very sharp fellow, and perfectly understood
his business-practically anticipating the Transatlantic axiom of buying