i 3 o ^IMBLES OF A <DOMINie 



the noble river glides all too rapidly away. All too 

 soon the towers and chimneys come in sight that warn 

 you that your cruise has reached its close. With many 

 interchanges of regret your gear and you are put ashore. 

 You wave a last salute as your comrades drift away 

 un der the bridge. They are gone. 



You find when you reach the station that you are too 

 soon for the express, and you lounge uncomfortably 

 along the platform, eyed by every idler, and conscious 

 that your costume is, after all, only fitted for the river. 

 You wish that your flannels had at least escaped that 

 touch of tar, and that the lock at Mapledurham had 

 not left its mark upon your sleeve. 



Then, as the swift train hurries you along, you look 

 eagerly for brief glimpses of the river you have left. 

 You catch sight of the long reach where, but an hour 

 ago, you were drifting with the stream. You recognise 

 , the white houseboats, with their flags and flowers. The 

 very skiffs, too, seem familiar. Yes, there is the very 

 boat you saw this morning, with strength at the helm 

 and beauty at the oar. The two girls are at it still; 

 still the lord of creation is lolling idly in the stern. 



