years, to
_his_ knowledge, and nobody had complained of it before, and he did not
see why we should be the first to begin.

We argued no more.

We fastened the so-called boat together with some pieces of string, got a
bit of wall-paper and pasted over the shabbier places, said our prayers,
and stepped on board.

They charged us thirty-five shillings for the loan of the remnant for six
days; and we could have bought the thing out-and-out for
four-and-sixpence at any sale of drift-wood round the coast.

The weather changed on the third day,--Oh! I am talking about our present
trip now,--and we started from Oxford upon our homeward journey in the
midst of a steady drizzle.

The river--with the sunlight flashing from its dancing wavelets, gilding
gold the grey-green beech-trunks, glinting through the dark, cool wood
paths, chasing shadows o'er the shallows, flinging diamonds from the
mill-wheels, throwing kisses to the lilies, wantoning with the weirs'
white waters, silvering moss-grown walls and bridges, brightening every
tiny townlet, making sweet each lane and meadow, lying tangled in the
rushes, peeping, laughing, from each inlet, gleaming gay on many a far
sail, making soft the air with glory--is a golden fairy stream.

But the river--chill and weary, with the ceaseless rain-drops falling on
its brown and sluggish waters, with a sound as of a woman, weeping low in
some dark chamber; while the woods, all dark and silent, shrouded in
their mists of vapour, stand like ghosts upon the margin; silent ghosts
with eyes reproachful, like the ghosts of evil actions, like the ghosts
of friends neglected--is a spirit-haunted water through the land of vain
regrets.

Sunlight is the life-blood of Nature. Mother Earth looks at us with such
dull, soulless eyes, when the sunlight has died away from out of her. It
makes us sad to be with her then; she does not seem to know us or to care
for us. She is as a widow who has lost the husband she loved, and her
children touch her hand, and look up into her eyes, but gain no smile
from her.

We rowed on all that day through the rain, and very melancholy work it
was. We pretended, at first, that we enjoyed it. We said it was a
change, and that we liked to see the river under all its different
aspects. We said we could not expect to have it all sunshine, nor should
we wish it. We told each other that Nature was beautiful, even in her
tears.

[Picture: The