122 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



hold of it and bears it onward. Soon it is evident that a 

 barge-port is near a haven where barges discharge their 

 cargoes. A by-way leads down to the river where boats 

 are lying for hire a dozen narrow punts, waiting at this 

 anchorage till groundbait be lawful. The ends of var- 

 nished skiffs, high and dry, are visible in a shed carefully 

 covered with canvas ; while sheaves of oars and sculls 

 lean against the wooden wall. 



Through the open doors of another shed there may be 

 had a glimpse of shavings and tools, and slight battens 

 crossing the workshop in apparent confusion, forming a 

 curious framework. These are the boatbuilder's struts and 

 stays, and contrivances to keep the boat in rigid position, 

 that her lines may be true and delicate, strake upon strake 

 of dull red mahogany rising from the beechen keel, 

 for the craftsman strings his boat almost as a violinist 

 strings his violin, with the greatest care and heed, and 

 with a right adjustment of curve and due proportion. 

 There is not much clinking, or sawing, or thumping; 

 little noise, but much skill. 



Gradually the scene opens. Far down a white bridge 

 spans the river : on the shore red-tiled and gabled houses 

 crowd to the very edge ; and behind them a church tower 

 stands out clear against the sky. There are barges every- 

 where. By the towing-path colliers are waiting to be 

 drawn up stream, black as their freight, by the horses that 

 are nibbling the hawthorn hedge ; while by the wharf, 

 labourers are wheeling barrows over bending planks from 

 the barges to the carts upon the shore. A tug comes 

 under the bridge, panting, every puff re-echoed from the 

 arches, dragging by sheer force deeply laden flats behind 

 it. The water in front of their bluff bows rises in a wave 

 nearly to the deck, and then swoops in a sweeping curve 

 to the rear. 



