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Then
we
looked
for
the
knife
to
open
the
tin
with
.
We
turned
out
everything
in
the
hamper
.
We
turned
out
the
bags
.
We
pulled
up
the
boards
at
the
bottom
of
the
boat
.
We
took
everything
out
on
to
the
bank
and
shook
it
.
There
was
no
tin-opener
to
be
found
.
Then
Harris
tried
to
open
the
tin
with
a
pocket-knife
,
and
broke
the
knife
and
cut
himself
badly
;
and
George
tried
a
pair
of
scissors
,
and
the
scissors
flew
up
,
and
nearly
put
his
eye
out
.
While
they
were
dressing
their
wounds
,
I
tried
to
make
a
hole
in
the
thing
with
the
spiky
end
of
the
hitcher
,
and
the
hitcher
slipped
and
jerked
me
out
between
the
boat
and
the
bank
into
two
feet
of
muddy
water
,
and
the
tin
rolled
over
,
uninjured
,
and
broke
a
teacup
.
Then
we
all
got
mad
.
We
took
that
tin
out
on
the
bank
,
and
Harris
went
up
into
a
field
and
got
a
big
sharp
stone
,
and
I
went
back
into
the
boat
and
brought
out
the
mast
,
and
George
held
the
tin
and
Harris
held
the
sharp
end
of
his
stone
against
the
top
of
it
,
and
I
took
the
mast
and
poised
it
high
up
in
the
air
,
and
gathered
up
all
my
strength
and
brought
it
down
.
It
was
George
's
straw
hat
that
saved
his
life
that
day
.
He
keeps
that
hat
now
(
what
is
left
of
it
)
,
and
,
of
a
winter
's
evening
,
when
the
pipes
are
lit
and
the
boys
are
telling
stretchers
about
the
dangers
they
have
passed
through
,
George
brings
it
down
and
shows
it
round
,
and
the
stirring
tale
is
told
anew
,
with
fresh
exaggerations
every
time
.
Harris
got
off
with
merely
a
flesh
wound
.
After
that
,
I
took
the
tin
off
myself
,
and
hammered
at
it
with
the
mast
till
I
was
worn
out
and
sick
at
heart
,
whereupon
Harris
took
it
in
hand
.
We
beat
it
out
flat
;
we
beat
it
back
square
;
we
battered
it
into
every
form
known
to
geometry
--
but
we
could
not
make
a
hole
in
it
.
Then
George
went
at
it
,
and
knocked
it
into
a
shape
,
so
strange
,
so
weird
,
so
unearthly
in
its
wild
hideousness
,
that
he
got
frightened
and
threw
away
the
mast
.
Then
we
all
three
sat
round
it
on
the
grass
and
looked
at
it
.
There
was
one
great
dent
across
the
top
that
had
the
appearance
of
a
mocking
grin
,
and
it
drove
us
furious
,
so
that
Harris
rushed
at
the
thing
,
and
caught
it
up
,
and
flung
it
far
into
the
middle
of
the
river
,
and
as
it
sank
we
hurled
our
curses
at
it
,
and
we
got
into
the
boat
and
rowed
away
from
the
spot
,
and
never
paused
till
we
reached
Maidenhead
.
Maidenhead
itself
is
too
snobby
to
be
pleasant
.
It
is
the
haunt
of
the
river
swell
and
his
overdressed
female
companion
.
It
is
the
town
of
showy
hotels
,
patronised
chiefly
by
dudes
and
ballet
girls
.
It
is
the
witch
's
kitchen
from
which
go
forth
those
demons
of
the
river
--
steam-launches
.
The
London
Journal
duke
always
has
his
"
little
place
"
at
Maidenhead
;
and
the
heroine
of
the
three-volume
novel
always
dines
there
when
she
goes
out
on
the
spree
with
somebody
else
's
husband
.
We
went
through
Maidenhead
quickly
,
and
then
eased
up
,
and
took
leisurely
that
grand
reach
beyond
Boulter
's
and
Cookham
locks
.
