Троє в човні крім собаки

           ClievedenWoodsstillworetheirdaintydressofspring,androseup,fromthewater’sedge,inonelongharmonyofblendedshadesoffairygreen. Initsunbrokenlovelinessthisis,perhaps,thesweeteststretchofalltheriver,andlingeringlyweslowlydrewourlittleboatawayfromitsdeeppeace. 

           Wepulledupinthebackwater,justbelowCookham,andhadtea;and,whenwewerethroughthelock,itwasevening. Astiffishbreezehadsprungup—inourfavour,forawonder; for,asaruleontheriver,thewindisalwaysdeadagainstyouwhateverwayyougo. Itisagainstyouinthemorning,whenyoustartforaday’strip,andyoupullalongdistance,thinkinghoweasyitwillbetocomebackwiththesail. Then,aftertea,thewindveersround,andyouhavetopullhardinitsteethallthewayhome. 

           Whenyouforgettotakethesailatall,thenthewindisconsistentlyinyourfavourbothways. Butthere!thisworldisonlyaprobation,andmanwasborntotroubleasthesparksflyupward. 

           Thisevening,however,theyhadevidentlymadeamistake,andhadputthewindroundatourbackinsteadofinourface. Wekeptveryquietaboutit,andgotthesailupquicklybeforetheyfounditout,andthenwespreadourselvesabouttheboatinthoughtfulattitudes,andthesailbelliedout,andstrained,andgrumbledatthemast,andtheboatflew. 

           Isteered. 

           ThereisnomorethrillingsensationIknowofthansailing. Itcomesasneartoflyingasmanhasgottoyet—exceptindreams.