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never did care for the river; did Montmorency。



〃It's all very well for you fellows;〃 he says; 〃you like it; but I don't。  

There's nothing for me to do。  Scenery is not in my line; and I don't 

smoke。  If I see a rat; you won't stop; and if I go to sleep; you get 

fooling about with the boat; and slop me overboard。  If you ask me; I 

call the whole thing bally foolishness。〃



We were three to one; however; and the motion was carried。









CHAPTER II。





PLANS DISCUSSED。 … PLEASURES OF 〃CAMPING…OUT;〃 ON FINE NIGHTS。 … DITTO; 

WET NIGHTS。 … COMPROMISE DECIDED ON。 … MONTMORENCY; FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF。 

… FEARS LEST HE IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD; FEARS SUBSEQUENTLY DISMISSED 

AS GROUNDLESS。 … MEETING ADJOURNS。



WE pulled out the maps; and discussed plans。



We arranged to start on the following Saturday from Kingston。  Harris and 

I would go down in the morning; and take the boat up to Chertsey; and 

George; who would not be able to get away from the City till the 

afternoon (George goes to sleep at a bank from ten to four each day; 

except Saturdays; when they wake him up and put him outside at two); 

would meet us there。



Should we 〃camp out〃 or sleep at inns?



George and I were for camping out。  We said it would be so wild and free; 

so patriarchal like。



Slowly the golden memory of the dead sun fades from the hearts of the 

cold; sad clouds。  Silent; like sorrowing children; the birds have ceased 

their song; and only the moorhen's plaintive cry and the harsh croak of 

the corncrake stirs the awed hush around the couch of waters; where the 

dying day breathes out her last。



From the dim woods on either bank; Night's ghostly army; the grey 

shadows; creep out with noiseless tread to chase away the lingering rear…

guard of the light; and pass; with noiseless; unseen feet; above the 

waving river…grass; and through the sighing rushes; and Night; upon her 

sombre throne; folds her black wings above the darkening world; and; from 

her phantom palace; lit by the pale stars; reigns in stillness。



Then we run our little boat into some quiet nook; and the tent is 

pitched; and the frugal supper cooked and eaten。  Then the big pipes are 

filled and lighted; and the pleasant chat goes round in musical 

undertone; while; in the pauses of our talk; the river; playing round the 

boat; prattles strange old tales and secrets; sings low the old child's 

song that it has sung so many thousand years … will sing so many thousand 

years to come; before its voice grows harsh and old … a song that we; who 

have learnt to love its changing face; who have so often nestled on its 

yielding bosom; think; somehow; we understand; though we could not tell 

you in mere words the story that we listen to。



And we sit there; by its margin; while the moon; who loves it too; stoops 

down to kiss it with a sister's kiss; and throws her silver arms around 

it clingingly; and we watch it as it flows; ever singing; ever 

whispering; out to meet its king; the sea … till our voices die away in 

silence; and the pipes go out … till we; common…place; everyday young men 

enough; feel strangely full of thoughts; half sad; half sweet; and do not 

care or want to speak … till we laugh; and; rising; knock the ashes from 

our burnt…out pipes; and say 〃Good…night;〃 and; lulled by the lapping 

water and the rustling trees; we fall asleep beneath the great; still 

stars; and dream that the world is young again … young and sweet as she 

used to be ere the centuries of fret and care had furrowed her fair face; 

ere her children's sins and follies had made old her loving heart … sweet 

as she was in those bygone days when; a new…made mother; she nursed us; 

her children; upon her own deep breast … ere the wiles of painted 

civilization had lured us away from her fond arms; and the poisoned 

sneers of artificiality had made us ashamed of the simple life we led 

with her; and the simple; stately home where mankind was born so many 

thousands years ago。



Harris said:



〃How about when it rained?〃



You can never rouse Harris。  There is no poetry about Harris … no wild 

yearning for the unattainable。  Harris never 〃weeps; he knows not why。〃  

If Harris's eyes fill with tears; you can bet it is because Harris has 

been eating raw onions; or has put too much Worcester over his chop。



If you were to stand at night by the sea…shore with Harris; and say:



〃Hark! do you not hear?  Is it but the mermaids singing deep below the 

waving waters; or sad spirits; chanting dirges for white corpses; held by 

seaweed?〃  Harris would take you by the arm; and say:



〃I know what it is; old man; you've got a chill。  Now; you come along 

with me。  I know a place round the corner here; where you can get a drop 

of the finest Scotch whisky you ever tasted … put you right in less than 

no time。〃



Harris always does know a place round the corner where you can get 

something brilliant in the drinking line。  I believe that if you met 

Harris up in Paradise (supposing such a thing likely); he would 

immediately greet you with:



〃So glad you've come; old fellow; I've found a nice place round the 

corner here; where you can get some really first…class nectar。〃



In the present instance; however; as regarded the camping out; his 

practical view of the matter came as a very timely hint。  Camping out in 

rainy weather is not pleasant。



It is evening。  You are wet through; and there is a good two inches of 

water in the boat; and all the things are damp。  You find a place on the 

banks that is not quite so puddly as other places you have seen; and you 

land and lug out the tent; and two of you proceed to fix it。



It is soaked and heavy; and it flops about; and tumbles down on you; and 

clings round your head and makes you mad。  The rain is pouring steadily 

down all the time。  It is difficult enough to fix a tent in dry weather: 

in wet; the task becomes herculean。  Instead of helping you; it seems to 

you that the other man is simply playing the fool。  Just as you get your 

side beautifully fixed; he gives it a hoist from his end; and spoils it 

all。



〃Here! what are you up to?〃 you call out。



〃What are YOU up to?〃 he retorts; 〃leggo; can't you?〃



〃Don't pull it; you've got it all wrong; you stupid ass!〃 you shout。



〃No; I haven't;〃 he yells back; 〃let go your side!〃



〃I tell you you've got it all wrong!〃 you roar; wishing that you could 

get at him; and you give your ropes a lug that pulls all his pegs out。



〃Ah; the bally idiot!〃 you hear him mutter to himself; and then comes a 

savage haul; and away goes your side。  You lay down the mallet and start 

to go round and tell him what you think about the whole business; and; at 

the same time; he starts round in the same direction to come and explain 

his views to you。  And you follow each other round and round; swearing at 

one another; until the tent tumbles down in a heap; and leaves you 

looking at each other across its ruins; when you both indignantly 

exclaim; in the same breath:



〃There you are! what did I tell you?〃



Meanwhile the third man; who has been baling out the boat; and who has 

spilled the water down his sleeve; and has been cursing away to himself 

steadily for the last ten minutes; wants to know what the thundering 

blazes you're playing at; and why the blarmed tent isn't up yet。



At last; somehow or other; it does get up; and you land the things。  It 

is hopeless attempting to make a wood fire; so you light the methylated 

spirit stove; and crowd round that。



Rainwater is the chief article of diet at supper。  The bread is two…

thirds rainwater; the beefsteak…pie is exceedingly rich in it; and the 

jam; and the butter; and the salt; and the coffee have all combined with 

it to make soup。



After supper; you find your tobacco is damp; and you cannot smoke。  

Luckily you have a bottle of the stuff that cheers and inebriates; if 

taken in proper quantity; and this restores to you sufficient interest in 

life to induce you to go to bed。



There you dream that an elephant has suddenly sat down on your chest; and 

that the volcano has exploded and thrown you down to the bottom of the 

sea … the elephant still sleeping peacefully on your bosom。  You wake up 

and grasp the idea that something terrible really has happened。  Your 

first impression is that the end of the world has come; and then you 

think that this cannot be; and that it is thieves and murderers; or else 

fire; and this opinion you express in the usual method。  No help comes; 

however; and all you know is that thousands of people are kicking you; 

and you are being smothered。



Somebody else seems in trouble; too。  You can hear his faint cries coming 

from underneath your bed。  Determining; at all events; to sell your life 

dearly; you struggle frantically; hitting out right and left with arms 

and legs; and yelling lustily the while; and at last something gives way; 

and you find your head in the fresh air。  Two feet off; you dimly observe 

a half…dressed ruffian; waiting to kill you; and you are preparing for a 

life…and…death struggle with him; when it begins to dawn upon you that 

it's Jim。



〃Oh; it's you; is it?〃 he says; recognising you at the same moment。



〃Yes;〃 you answer; rubbing your eyes; 〃what's happened?〃



〃Bally tent's blown down; I think;〃 he says。



〃Where's Bill?〃



Then you both raise up your voices and shout for 〃Bill!〃 and the ground 

beneath you heaves and rocks; and the muffled voice that you heard before 

replies from out the ruin:



〃Get off my head; can't you?〃



And Bill struggles out; a muddy; trampled wreck; and in an unnecessarily 

aggressive mood … he being under the evident belief that the whole thing 

has been done on purpose。



In the morning you are all three speechless; owing to having caught 

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