ing I put on smart flannels and went for a scull on the
river. If ever you drink too much it is best to force yourself into
violent exercise at any cost, and for that reason I determined to row
until the effects of a very bad night had worn off. Usually I keep
myself clear of after consequences, but I had been with a keen set, and
we did not go to bed at all. When we contrived to separate at 7 a.m.,
some of my companions began on a fresh day's drinking, but I chose to
take a rest.

It was a lovely morning, and I felt like a bad sort of criminal amid the
clear, splendid beauty. When the light wind struck across the surface of
the river it seemed as if the water were pelted with falling jewels; the
osiers bowed and sighed as the breeze ran along their tops; and, here
and there, a spirt of shaken dewdrops described a flashing arc, and fell
poppling into the stream. Ah! how solemnly glad and pure and radiant the
great trees looked! The larks had gone wild with the joy of living, and
their delicious rivalry, their ceaseless gurgle of liquid melody, seemed
somehow to match the multitudinous glitter of the mighty clouds of
foliage. For a man with pure palate and healthy eye the sights and
sounds would have made a heaven; but my mouth was like a furnace, and
my eye was fevered. Nevertheless, I managed to enjoy the sweet panorama
more and more as my muscles grew tense, and I pulled on doggedly for
full three hours, until I had not a dry stitch on me; then a funny
little waterside inn drew my eye, and I went ashore. Bob Darbishire met
me with a shout of welcome, and I wondered what brought him there. Bob
did not often visit The Chequers, for he was a wealthy fellow, and he
liked best to fool his time away in flash billiard-rooms; but he knew me
well enough, and I was on as easy terms with him as with the costers and
Rommany chals. I say _was_ when I speak of him. Ah me!

Bob succeeded to a great deal of ready money and a good business when he
was barely twenty-one, and he broke out into a rackety life at once, for
he had been hard held in by his father and mother, and his mad
activities craved for some vent. Had he been well guided he would have
become a useful citizen, but he was driven with a cruel bit, and the
reins were savagely jerked whenever he seemed restive. When he once was
free, he set off at a wild rate down the steep that leads to perdition,
and plenty of people cheered him as he flew on. It vexed me often to see
a