Three Men in a Boat

GEORGE'S BLAZER. - A DAY WITH THEFASHION-PLATE YOUNG LADY. - MRS. THOMAS'S TOMB. - THE MAN WHO LOVES NOTGRA

pass through, as we were theonly boat, and it is a big lock. I don't think I ever remember to haveseen Moulsey L

s, and many-coloured parasols, and silken rugs, and cloaks, andstreaming ribbons, and dainty whites; when looking down into the lockfrom the quay, you migh

o HamptonChurch, is dotted and decked with yellow, and blue, and orange, andwhite, and red, and pink. All the inhabitants of Hampton and Moulseydress themselves up in boating costume, and come and mouch round the lockwith their dogs, and flirt, and smoke, and watch the boat

little red in my things - red andblack. You know my hair is a sort of golden brown, rather a pretty shadeI've been told, and a dark red matches it beautifully; and then I alwaysthi

e can be no question about it. Iwant him to take to blue as a background, with white or cream for relief;but, there! the less taste a person has in dress, the more obstinate he

him what colour hecalled it, and he said he didn't know. He didn't think there was a namefor the colour. The man had told him it was an Oriental design. Georgeput it on, and asked us what we thought of it. Harris said that, as anobject to hang over a flower-bed in

th regard to it, is that we are afrai

ell if all ladies would understand,ought to be a costume that can be worn in a boat, and not merely under aglass-case. It utterly spoils an excursion if you have folk in the boatwho

ight gloves. But they weredressed for a photographic studio, not for a river picnic. They were the"boating costu

h the forefinger ofher glove, and showed the result to the other, and they both sighed, andsat down, with the air of early Christian martyrs trying to makethemselves comfortable up against the

to drop them into again eachtime. (Bow said, after a while, that he did not feel himself asufficiently accomplished oarsman to pull with me, but that he would sitstill, if I would all

them, they visibly shrankand shuddered. It was a noble sight to see them suffering thus insilence, but it unnerved me

he manthey had got now was a jolly, light-hearted, thick-headed sort of a chap,with about as much sensitiveness in him as there might be in aNewfoundland puppy. You might look daggers at him for an hour and hewould not notice it, and it would not trouble him if he did

re;" and offer them his hand

r in reply, andcovertly draw rugs and coats over themselve

d their handkerchiefs on the ground and sat on those, boltupright. Somebody, in walking about with a plate of beef-steak pie,tripped up over a root, and sent the pie flying. None of it went overthem, fortunately, but the accide

over, "come along, you've got to wash up!"They didn't understand him at first. W

you lean over the bank, you know, and sloush the things about inthe water."The elde

p."And he made them do it, too. He told them that that sort of thi

ense-headed as wethought? or was he - no, impossible!

at Hampton Church, to go

Mrs. Thoma

tombstones myself. I know that the properthing to do, when you get to a village or town, is to rush off to thechurchyard, and enjoy the graves; but it is a recreation that I alwaysdeny myself. I ta

ore exciting inscriptions, and by my lack of enthusiasm for the localfamily

dness from the sweet, restful scene - the grey old church withits clustering ivy and its quaint carved wooden porch, the white lanewinding down the h

ape. It was idyllic, poe

I would come and live here, and never do any more wrong, and leada blameless,

bandoned way all unconscious of what I,far away in that peaceful village, was doing for them; but I did it, andI wished that I could let them know that I had done it,

hurry."I looked up, and saw an old bald-headed man hobbling across thechurchyard towa

ent dignity, but he still adva

e lame. I ain't as spry asI used to be. This wa

eyou till just this minute. You follow me, sur.""Go away," I repeated;

nt to see the t

like it, because itfeels nice and good. Don't you come fooling about, making me mad,chivying away all my better feelings with this silly tombstone nonsenseof yours. Go away, and get someb

e s

Green Cemetery,that is the pride of all that country-side; and my grandfather's vault atBow is capable of accommodating eight visitors, while my great-aunt Susanhas a brick grave in Finchley Churchyard, with a headstone with a coffee-pot sort of thing in bas-relief upon it, and a six-inch best white stonecoping all the way round, that cost pounds. When I want graves, it is tothose places th

urate, and, in broken-

ndow?"I would not even see that, so he fired hi

e and see the skulls! You are a young man out for aholiday, and you want to enjoy yourself

in tombs, and graves, and epitaphs, andmonumental inscriptions, and the thought of not

trip was proposed - said hewouldn't have joine

mas's

s Georgeto fool about all day, and leave us to lug this lumbering old top-heavybarge up and down the river by ourselves to meet him? Why co

wasdoing something. What's the good of a man behind a bit of glass? I haveto work for my living. Why can't he work. What use is he there, a

That's the sort of trickthey served me twice l

ere, that's what he's doing, leaving us to do all the work. I'mgoing to get out, and have a drink."I pointed out to him that we were miles awa

let Harris have his hea

imself out, and i

per, and agallon-jar of water in the nose of the boat, and that

ed them, ginger-beer, raspberry syrup, &c., &c. He said they allproduced dyspepsi

rying to steer at the same time, from a topsy-turvypoint of view, he pulled the wrong line, and sent the boat into the bank,and the shock upset him, and he dived down right into the hamper, andstood there on his head, holding on