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I
have
never
taken
much
interest
in
German
songs
since
then
.
We
reached
Sunbury
Lock
at
half-past
three
.
The
river
is
sweetly
pretty
just
there
before
you
come
to
the
gates
,
and
the
backwater
is
charming
;
but
do
n't
attempt
to
row
up
it
.
I
tried
to
do
so
once
.
I
was
sculling
,
and
asked
the
fellows
who
were
steering
if
they
thought
it
could
be
done
,
and
they
said
,
oh
,
yes
,
they
thought
so
,
if
I
pulled
hard
.
We
were
just
under
the
little
foot-bridge
that
crosses
it
between
the
two
weirs
,
when
they
said
this
,
and
I
bent
down
over
the
sculls
,
and
set
myself
up
,
and
pulled
.
I
pulled
splendidly
.
I
got
well
into
a
steady
rhythmical
swing
.
I
put
my
arms
,
and
my
legs
,
and
my
back
into
it
.
I
set
myself
a
good
,
quick
,
dashing
stroke
,
and
worked
in
really
grand
style
.
My
two
friends
said
it
was
a
pleasure
to
watch
me
.
At
the
end
of
five
minutes
,
I
thought
we
ought
to
be
pretty
near
the
weir
,
and
I
looked
up
.
We
were
under
the
bridge
,
in
exactly
the
same
spot
that
we
were
when
I
began
,
and
there
were
those
two
idiots
,
injuring
themselves
by
violent
laughing
.
I
had
been
grinding
away
like
mad
to
keep
that
boat
stuck
still
under
that
bridge
.
I
let
other
people
pull
up
backwaters
against
strong
streams
now
.
We
sculled
up
to
Walton
,
a
rather
large
place
for
a
riverside
town
.
As
with
all
riverside
places
,
only
the
tiniest
corner
of
it
comes
down
to
the
water
,
so
that
from
the
boat
you
might
fancy
it
was
a
village
of
some
half-dozen
houses
,
all
told
.
Windsor
and
Abingdon
are
the
only
towns
between
London
and
Oxford
that
you
can
really
see
anything
of
from
the
stream
.
All
the
others
hide
round
corners
,
and
merely
peep
at
the
river
down
one
street
:
my
thanks
to
them
for
being
so
considerate
,
and
leaving
the
river-banks
to
woods
and
fields
and
water-works
.
Even
Reading
,
though
it
does
its
best
to
spoil
and
sully
and
make
hideous
as
much
of
the
river
as
it
can
reach
,
is
good-natured
enough
to
keep
its
ugly
face
a
good
deal
out
of
sight
.
Caesar
,
of
course
,
had
a
little
place
at
Walton
--
a
camp
,
or
an
entrenchment
,
or
something
of
that
sort
.
Caesar
was
a
regular
up-river
man
.
Also
Queen
Elizabeth
,
she
was
there
,
too
.
You
can
never
get
away
from
that
woman
,
go
where
you
will
.
Cromwell
and
Bradshaw
(
not
the
guide
man
,
but
the
King
Charles
's
head
man
)
likewise
sojourned
here
.
They
must
have
been
quite
a
pleasant
little
party
,
altogether
.
There
is
an
iron
"
scold
's
bridle
"
in
Walton
Church
.
They
used
these
things
in
ancient
days
for
curbing
women
's
tongues
.
They
have
given
up
the
attempt
now
.
I
suppose
iron
was
getting
scarce
,
and
nothing
else
would
be
strong
enough
.
There
are
also
tombs
of
note
in
the
church
,
and
I
was
afraid
I
should
never
get
Harris
past
them
;
but
he
did
n't
seem
to
think
of
them
,
and
we
went
on
.
Above
the
bridge
the
river
winds
tremendously
.
This
makes
it
look
picturesque
;
but
it
irritates
you
from
a
towing
or
sculling
point
of
view
,
and
causes
argument
between
the
man
who
is
pulling
and
the
man
who
is
steering
.
