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Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel

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— 95 —<br />

ti<strong>on</strong>; and <strong>the</strong>n we both w<strong>on</strong>dered if we were both asleep, and if<br />

so, who was <strong>the</strong> real <strong>on</strong>e that was dream<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, and who was <strong>the</strong><br />

<strong>on</strong>e that was <strong>on</strong>ly a dream; it got quite <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>terest<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g.<br />

I still went <strong>on</strong> pull<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, however, and still no lock came <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g><br />

sight, and <strong>the</strong> river grew more and more gloomy and mysterious<br />

under <strong>the</strong> ga<strong>the</strong>r<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g shadows of night, and th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gs seemed<br />

to be gett<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g weird and uncanny. I thought of hobgobl<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>s and<br />

banshees, and will-o’-<strong>the</strong>-wisps, and those wicked girls who<br />

sit up all night <strong>on</strong> rocks, and lure people <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>to whirl-pools and<br />

th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gs; and I wished I had been a better man, and knew more<br />

hymns; and <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>the</strong> middle of <strong>the</strong>se reflecti<strong>on</strong>s I heard <strong>the</strong> blessed<br />

stra<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>s of “He’s got ’em <strong>on</strong>,” played, badly, <strong>on</strong> a c<strong>on</strong>cert<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>a,<br />

and knew that we were saved.<br />

I do not admire <strong>the</strong> t<strong>on</strong>es of a c<strong>on</strong>cert<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>a, as a rule; but, oh!<br />

how beautiful <strong>the</strong> music seemed to us both <strong>the</strong>n — far, far more<br />

beautiful than <strong>the</strong> voice of Orpheus or <strong>the</strong> lute of Apollo, or<br />

anyth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g of that sort could have sounded. Heavenly melody, <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g><br />

our <strong>the</strong>n state of m<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>d, would <strong>on</strong>ly have still fur<strong>the</strong>r harrowed<br />

us. A soul-mov<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g harm<strong>on</strong>y, correctly performed, we should<br />

have taken as a spirit-warn<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, and have given up all hope. But<br />

about <strong>the</strong> stra<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>s of “He’s got ’em <strong>on</strong>,” jerked spasmodically,<br />

and with <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>voluntary variati<strong>on</strong>s, out of a wheezy accordi<strong>on</strong>,<br />

<strong>the</strong>re was someth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g s<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gularly human and reassur<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g.<br />

The sweet sounds drew nearer, and so<strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> boat from<br />

which <strong>the</strong>y were worked lay al<strong>on</strong>gside us.<br />

It c<strong>on</strong>ta<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ed a party of prov<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>cial ’Arrys and ’Arriets, out for<br />

a mo<strong>on</strong>light sail. (There was not any mo<strong>on</strong>, but that was not<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir fault.) I never saw more attractive, lovable people <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> all<br />

my life. I hailed <strong>the</strong>m, and asked if <strong>the</strong>y could tell me <strong>the</strong> way<br />

to Wall<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gford lock; and I expla<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ed that I had been look<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<br />

for it for <strong>the</strong> last two hours.<br />

“Wall<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gford lock!” <strong>the</strong>y answered. “Lor’ love you, sir, that’s<br />

been d<strong>on</strong>e away with for over a year. There a<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>’t no Wall<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gford<br />

lock now, sir. You’re close to Cleeve now. Blow me tight if<br />

’ere a<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>’t a gentleman been look<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g for Wall<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>gford lock, Bill!”<br />

I had never thought of that. I wanted to fall up<strong>on</strong> all <strong>the</strong>ir

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