rough the
tunnel, we obtained permission from one of the very grimy crew to place our
canoe aboard, and, this safely accomplished, the tug puffed and snorted up
to the entrance, hitched on to a string of barges, and with a deal of fuss
and smoke entered the tunnel.

The journey through this subterranean passage was a most novel one
to us who had never been through a tunnel of this description before.
The intense darkness, only illuminated by the light from the boiler fire,
was most uncanny, while the wonderful reverberations and echoes occurring
in the tunnel quite startled us until we became used to the situation.
The roof seemed so low that we instinctively stooped our heads to avoid
getting them removed from our shoulders, an action which caused immense
amusement to the skipper, who, in the manner of his kind, accentuated the
eerie feeling of the place by spinning all sorts of creepy yarns about
canal boatmen who had mysteriously gone overboard in the pitch dark,
and never been seen again.

We drew a long breath when we emerged into the welcome blinking daylight
at the other end of the tunnel, and soon after bade good-bye to our whilom
friend the skipper.

I can imagine no place more calculated to quickly shatter the nerves and
break the health of a human being than one of those foul, suffocating
tunnels under the hills.

On this occasion we stopped for the night at Blisworth and put up at a
wayside inn possessing the curious sign of the "Sun, Moon, and Seven Stars"
(the only one in England we were told), where we met with quite a
reception, the news of our approach having gone ahead of us, we afterwards
discovered.

Before proceeding next day, we had to clear the canoe of the dirt and
rubbish collected during the passage of the tunnel. Upon this day we
passed through six locks in close succession, as well as another tunnel,
and skirted the village of Ansley, once the property of Lady Godiva,
of the uncomfortable ride fame, soon after which we left the waters of
the Grand Junction at Braunston (Warwickshire), and entered upon those
of the Oxford Canal.

A hard day's paddle, of no particular interest, brought us to Willoughby,
where we put up for the night.

We awoke next morning to find the weather damp and misty, so we dispensed,
for the first time, with our morning dip, and lingered somewhat over
breakfast to make up for it.

_A propose_ of eating, I should mention that all along the way we had come
fru