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"
Oh
,
yes
,
very
nicely
,
indeed
,
only
do
n't
stop
.
"
"
It
does
n't
seem
difficult
at
all
.
I
thought
it
was
so
hard
.
"
"
Oh
,
no
,
it
's
simple
enough
.
You
want
to
keep
on
steady
at
it
,
that
's
all
.
"
"
I
see
.
Give
me
out
my
red
shawl
,
it
's
under
the
cushion
.
"
You
find
the
shawl
,
and
hand
it
out
,
and
by
this
time
another
one
has
come
back
and
thinks
she
will
have
hers
too
,
and
they
take
Mary
's
on
chance
,
and
Mary
does
not
want
it
,
so
they
bring
it
back
and
have
a
pocket-comb
instead
.
It
is
about
twenty
minutes
before
they
get
off
again
,
and
,
at
the
next
corner
,
they
see
a
cow
,
and
you
have
to
leave
the
boat
to
chivy
the
cow
out
of
their
way
.
There
is
never
a
dull
moment
in
the
boat
while
girls
are
towing
it
.
George
got
the
line
right
after
a
while
,
and
towed
us
steadily
on
to
Penton
Hook
.
There
we
discussed
the
important
question
of
camping
.
We
had
decided
to
sleep
on
board
that
night
,
and
we
had
either
to
lay
up
just
about
there
,
or
go
on
past
Staines
.
It
seemed
early
to
think
about
shutting
up
then
,
however
,
with
the
sun
still
in
the
heavens
,
and
we
settled
to
push
straight
on
for
Runnymead
,
three
and
a
half
miles
further
,
a
quiet
wooded
part
of
the
river
,
and
where
there
is
good
shelter
.
We
all
wished
,
however
,
afterward
that
we
had
stopped
at
Penton
Hook
.
Three
or
four
miles
up
stream
is
a
trifle
,
early
in
the
morning
,
but
it
is
a
weary
pull
at
the
end
of
a
long
day
.
You
take
no
interest
in
the
scenery
during
these
last
few
miles
.
You
do
not
chat
and
laugh
.
Every
half-mile
you
cover
seems
like
two
.
You
can
hardly
believe
you
are
only
where
you
are
,
and
you
are
convinced
that
the
map
must
be
wrong
;
and
,
when
you
have
trudged
along
for
what
seems
to
you
at
least
ten
miles
,
and
still
the
lock
is
not
in
sight
,
you
begin
to
seriously
fear
that
somebody
must
have
sneaked
it
,
and
run
off
with
it
.
I
remember
being
terribly
upset
once
up
the
river
(
in
a
figurative
sense
,
I
mean
)
.
I
was
out
with
a
young
lady
--
cousin
on
my
mother
's
side
--
and
we
were
pulling
down
to
Goring
.
It
was
rather
late
,
and
we
were
anxious
to
get
in
--
at
least
she
was
anxious
to
get
in
.
It
was
half-past
six
when
we
reached
Benson
's
lock
,
and
dusk
was
drawing
on
,
and
she
began
to
get
excited
then
.
She
said
she
must
be
in
to
supper
.
I
said
it
was
a
thing
I
felt
I
wanted
to
be
in
at
,
too
;
and
I
drew
out
a
map
I
had
with
me
to
see
exactly
how
far
it
was
.
I
saw
it
was
just
a
mile
and
a
half
to
the
next
lock
--
Wallingford
--
and
five
on
from
there
to
Cleeve
.
