Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel
Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel
Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel
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— 192 —<br />
The river — with <strong>the</strong> sunlight flash<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g from its danc<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
wavelets, gild<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g gold <strong>the</strong> grey-green beech-trunks, gl<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>t<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
through <strong>the</strong> dark, cool wood paths, chas<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g shadows o’er <strong>the</strong><br />
shallows, fl<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g diam<strong>on</strong>ds from <strong>the</strong> mill-wheels, throw<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
kisses to <strong>the</strong> lilies, want<strong>on</strong><str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g with <strong>the</strong> weirs’ white waters, silver<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
moss-grown walls and bridges, brighten<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g every t<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>y<br />
townlet, mak<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g sweet each lane and meadow, ly<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g tangled <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g><br />
<strong>the</strong> rushes, peep<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, laugh<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, from each <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>let, gleam<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g gay<br />
<strong>on</strong> many a far sail, mak<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g soft <strong>the</strong> air with glory — is a golden<br />
fairy stream.<br />
But <strong>the</strong> river — chill and weary, with <strong>the</strong> ceaseless ra<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>-drops<br />
fall<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g <strong>on</strong> its brown and sluggish waters, with a sound as of a<br />
woman, weep<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g low <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> some dark chamber; while <strong>the</strong> woods,<br />
all dark and silent, shrouded <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>the</strong>ir mists of vapour, stand<br />
like ghosts up<strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> marg<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>; silent ghosts with eyes reproachful,<br />
like <strong>the</strong> ghosts of evil acti<strong>on</strong>s, like <strong>the</strong> ghosts of friends<br />
neglected — is a spirit-haunted water through <strong>the</strong> land of va<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g><br />
regrets.<br />
Sunlight is <strong>the</strong> life-blood of Nature. Mo<strong>the</strong>r Earth looks at<br />
us with such dull, soulless eyes, when <strong>the</strong> sunlight has died<br />
away from out of her. It makes us sad to be with her <strong>the</strong>n; she<br />
does not seem to know us or to care for us. She is as a widow<br />
who has lost <strong>the</strong> husband she loved, and her children touch her<br />
hand, and look up <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>to her eyes, but ga<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> no smile from her.<br />
We rowed <strong>on</strong> all that day through <strong>the</strong> ra<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>, and very melancholy<br />
work it was. We pretended, at first, that we enjoyed it. We<br />
said it was a change, and that we liked to see <strong>the</strong> river under<br />
all its different aspects. We said we could not expect to have<br />
it all sunsh<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>e, nor should we wish it. We told each o<strong>the</strong>r that<br />
Nature was beautiful, even <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> her tears.<br />
Indeed, Harris and I were quite enthusiastic about <strong>the</strong> bus<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ess,<br />
for <strong>the</strong> first few hours. And we sang a s<strong>on</strong>g about a gipsy’s<br />
life, and how delightful a gipsy’s existence was! — free to storm<br />
and sunsh<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>e, and to every w<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>d that blew! — and how he enjoyed<br />
<strong>the</strong> ra<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>, and what a lot of good it did him; and how he<br />
laughed at people who didn’t like it.