120 THE OPEN AIR. 



there would be a draught of fine ale for the heated 

 and thirsty sculler. On again till steeple or tower 

 rising over the trees marked my journey's end for the 

 day, some old town where, after rest and refreshment, 

 there would be a ruin or a timbered house to look at, 

 where I should meet folk full of former days and 

 quaint tales of yore. Thus to journey on from place 

 to place would be the great charm of the river — 

 travelling by water, not merely sculling to and fro, 

 but really travelling. Upon a lake I could but row 

 across and back again, and however lovely the scenery 

 might be, still it would always be the same. But the 

 Thames, upon the river I could really travel, day after 

 day, from Teddington Lock upwards to Windsor, to 

 Oxford, on to quiet Lechlade, or even farther deep 

 into the meadows by Cricklade. Every hour there 

 would be something interesting, all the freshwater 

 life to study, the very barges would amuse me, and 

 at last there would be the delicious ease of floating 

 home carried by the stream, repassing all that had 

 pleased before. 



The time came. I lived by the river, not far from 

 its widest reaches, before the stream meets its tide. 

 I went down to the eyot for a boat, and my diflQculties 

 began. The crowd of J)oats lashed to each other in 

 strings ready for the hirer disconcerted me. There 

 were so many I could not choose ; the whole together 

 looked like a broad raft. Others were hauled on the 

 shore. Over on the eyot, a little island, there were 

 more boats, boats launched, boats being launched, 

 boats being carried by gentlemen in coloured flannels 

 as carefully as mothers handle their youngest infants. 



