Трое в лодке, не считая собаки / Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog). Джером Клапка Джером

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place at Walton – a camp, or an entrenchment, or something of that sort. Also Queen Elizabeth,[62] she was there, too. You can never get away from that woman, go where you will.[63]

      There is an iron ‘scold’s bridle[64]’ in Walton Church. They used these things in ancient days for curbing women’s tongues. They have given up the attempt now. I suppose iron was getting scarce,[65] and nothing else would be strong enough.

      There are also remarkable tombs in the church, but Harris didn’t seem to think of them, and we went on. Above the bridge the river winds tremendously. This makes it look picturesque; but it causes argument between the man who is pulling and the man who is steering.

      You pass Oatlands Park[66] on the right bank here. It is a famous old place. Henry VIII[67] stole it from some one or the other, I forget whom now, and lived in it. There is a grotto in the park which you can see for a fee, and which is supposed to be very wonderful; but I cannot see much in it myself. The late Duchess of York,[68] who lived at Oatlands, was very fond of dogs. She had a special graveyard, in which she buried them when they died, and there they lie, about fifty of them, with a tombstone over each, and an epitaph inscribed thereon.

      Well, I dare say they deserve it quite as much as the average Christian[69] does.

      Halliford[70] and Shepperton[71] are both pretty little spots; but there is nothing remarkable about either of them. There is a tomb in Shepperton churchyard, however, with a poem on it, and I was nervous lest Harris should want to get out. So I jerked his cap into the water, and in the excitement of recovering that, he forgot all about his beloved graves.

      At Weybridge,[72] the river enters the Thames.[73] The lock is just opposite the town, and the first thing that we saw, when we came in view of it, was George’s blazer on one of the lock gates. When we came close, we discovered George inside it.

      Montmorency set up a furious barking, I shrieked, Harris roared; George waved his hat.

      George had a curious thing in his hand. It was round and flat at one end, with a long straight handle.

      “What’s that?” said Harris, “a frying-pan?”

      “No,” said George, with a strange, wild look glittering in his eyes. “It’s a banjo.”

      “I never knew you played the banjo!” cried Harris and I, in one breath.

      “Not exactly,” replied George, “but it’s very easy, they tell me; and I’ve got the instruction book!”

      Chapter IX

      George did not want to work, of course; that goes without saying. He had had a hard time in the City, so he explained. Harris said:

      “Ah! and now you are going to have a hard time on the river for a change; change is good for everyone!”

      I would not let Harris touch the tow-line, because he is careless. I had looped it round slowly and cautiously, and tied it up in the middle, and folded it in two, and laid it down gently at the bottom of the boat. Harris had lifted it up, and had put it into George’s hand. George had taken it firmly, and held it away from him, and had begun to unravel it; and, before he had unwound a dozen yards, the thing was more like a badly-made door-mat[74] than anything else.

      An example of the dangerous case was witnessed by George and myself once up near Walton. We were camping on the opposite bank, noticing things in general. A small boat came in sight, towed through the water by a powerful horse, on which sat a very small boy. In the boat there lay five fellows, the man who was steering had a particularly restful appearance.

      “I should like to see him pull the wrong line,” murmured George, as they passed. And at that precise moment the man did it, and the boat rushed up the bank. Two men, a hamper, and three oars immediately left the boat on the larboard side, and afterwards, two other men disembarked from the starboard, and sat down among boat-hooks and sails and carpet-bags and bottles. The last man went on twenty yards further, and then got out on his head.

      This lightened the boat, and it went on much easier. The small boy shouted, and urged his steed into a gallop. The fellows sat up and stared at one another. It was some seconds before they realised what had happened to them, but, when they did, they began to shout for the boy to stop. He, however, was too much occupied with the horse to hear them, and we watched them, flying after him, until the distance hid them from view.[75]

      Of all experiences in connection with towing, the most exciting is being towed by girls. It is a sensation that nobody ought to miss. It takes three girls to tow always; two hold the rope, and the other one runs round and round, and giggles. They generally begin by getting themselves tied up. They get the line round their legs, and have to sit down on the path and undo each other, and then they twist it round their necks, and are nearly strangled. They fix it straight, however, at last, and start off at a run, pulling the boat along at quite a dangerous pace. At the end of a hundred yards they are naturally breathless, and suddenly stop, and all sit down on the grass and laugh, and your boat drifts out to mid-stream and turns round, before you know what has happened. Then they stand up, and are surprised.

      “Oh, look!” they say, “he’s gone right out into the middle.”

      After this the boat runs aground 1.

      You jump up, and you shout to them not to stop.

      “Yes. What’s the matter?” they shout back.

      “Don’t stop,” you roar.

      “Don’t what?”

      “Don’t stop – go on – go on!”

      “Go back, Emily, and see what it is they want,” says one; and Emily comes back, and asks what it is.

      “What do you want?” she says, “anything happened?”

      1 runs aground – садится на мель

      “No,” you reply, “it’s all right; only go on, you know – don’t stop.”

      “Why not?”

      “We can’t steer, if you stop. You must keep the boat moving.”

      “Oh, all right, I’ll tell them. Are we doing it all right?”

      “Oh, yes, very nicely, indeed, only don’t stop.”

      “It doesn’t seem difficult at all. I thought it was so hard.”

      “Oh, no, it’s simple enough. You want to keep on steady at it, that’s all.”

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