resqueness to
the scene. It is worth while to row or sail against the stream until the
whole of the meadow is passed by, for then comes Godstow, where Fair
Rosamond found refuge, and where she was at last laid to rest. It must
in all honesty be confessed that to the average undergraduate the place
was reckoned desirable, not so much on account of the historical
interest just mentioned, as because, after a long pull up the river on a
summer afternoon, it was possible to obtain at the little inn upon the
river bank what was euphemistically called "eel tea", a meal which, as a
matter of fact, consisted of stewed eels washed down by unlimited
libations of cider-cup!

Far smaller in extent, but even more famous, is the tree-girt space
called Christ Church Meadow, lying between that college and the river.
Port Meadow may be said to be a wide bright outskirt of the natural robe
of Oxford: Christ Church Meadow, with its Broad Walk and its mighty
trees, is like a fold about her feet deep-trimmed and bordered with a
silver braid. It is here that on Show Sunday, in Commemoration Week,
in June, those who hold high places in the University, with favoured
guests, and some few undergraduates, pace up and down, or used to pace
in days gone by; for it belongs to a more modern pen to say whether the
old custom still obtains, or whether it has passed away with other
things of ceremony, such as (to compare small things with great) the
custom of forty years ago, in pursuance of which an undergraduate would
now and then array himself in his most brilliant attire and saunter up
and down the High. Does the old street feel slighted, one wonders, at
the fact that it is "done" no more?

[Illustration: THE COLLEGE BARGES AND FOLLY BRIDGE]

Close by the meadow the college barges line the banks of the Isis, and
then come other meadows on either side--meadows nameless and undignified
by pageantry, but sacred to Oxford's special flower, the fritillary, and
stretching away to where Iffley stands, with its memories of J.H.
Newman, and where the old mill, beloved of painters, was burnt down a
few years ago.

One other meadow there is, smaller than either of those already
mentioned, and less beautiful in itself, though highly favoured in its
immediate surroundings. It stands within the grounds of Magdalen
College, and is bordered on either side by the divided waters of the
Cherwell, before they pass beneath Magdalen Bridge. Around this meadow
is a sh