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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— 68 —<br />
I gave it up at last; I said I’d row bow. Bow thought <strong>the</strong> arrangement<br />
would be better too, and we changed places. The<br />
ladies gave an <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>voluntary sigh of relief when <strong>the</strong>y saw me go,<br />
and quite brightened up for a moment. Poor girls! <strong>the</strong>y had<br />
better have put up with me. The man <strong>the</strong>y had got now was a<br />
jolly, light-hearted, thick-headed sort of a chap, with about as<br />
much sensitiveness <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> him as <strong>the</strong>re might be <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> a Newfoundland<br />
puppy. You might look daggers at him for an hour and he<br />
would not notice it, and it would not trouble him if he did. He<br />
set a good, rollick<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, dash<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g stroke that sent <strong>the</strong> spray play<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
all over <strong>the</strong> boat like a founta<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>, and made <strong>the</strong> whole crowd<br />
sit up straight <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> no time. When he spread more than p<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>t of<br />
water over <strong>on</strong>e of those dresses, he would give a pleasant little<br />
laugh, and say:<br />
“I beg your pard<strong>on</strong>, I’m sure;” and offer <strong>the</strong>m his handkerchief<br />
to wipe it off with.<br />
“Oh, it’s of no c<strong>on</strong>sequence,” <strong>the</strong> poor girls would murmur<br />
<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> reply, and covertly draw rugs and coats over <strong>the</strong>mselves, and<br />
try and protect <strong>the</strong>mselves with <strong>the</strong>ir lace parasols.<br />
At lunch <strong>the</strong>y had a very bad time of it. People wanted <strong>the</strong>m<br />
to sit <strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> grass, and <strong>the</strong> grass was dusty; and <strong>the</strong> tree-trunks,<br />
aga<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>st which <strong>the</strong>y were <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>vited to lean, did not appear to have<br />
been brushed for weeks; so <strong>the</strong>y spread <strong>the</strong>ir handkerchiefs <strong>on</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> ground and sat <strong>on</strong> those, bolt upright. Somebody, <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> walk<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />
about with a plate of beef-steak pie, tripped up over a root,<br />
and sent <strong>the</strong> pie fly<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g. N<strong>on</strong>e of it went over <strong>the</strong>m, fortunately,<br />
but <strong>the</strong> accident suggested a fresh danger to <strong>the</strong>m, and agitated<br />
<strong>the</strong>m; and, whenever anybody moved about, after that, with<br />
anyth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> his hand that could fall and make a mess, <strong>the</strong>y<br />
watched that pers<strong>on</strong> with grow<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g anxiety until he sat down<br />
aga<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>.<br />
“Now <strong>the</strong>n, you girls,” said our friend Bow to <strong>the</strong>m, cheerily,<br />
after it was all over, “come al<strong>on</strong>g, you’ve got to wash up!”<br />
They didn’t understand him at first. When <strong>the</strong>y grasped <strong>the</strong><br />
idea, <strong>the</strong>y said <strong>the</strong>y feared <strong>the</strong>y did not know how to wash up.<br />
“Oh, I’ll so<strong>on</strong> show you,” he cried; “it’s rare fun! You lie