Three Men In A Boat - Chapter 7 - Classic Fiction Audiobook Read by Dr James Gill

good evening three men and a boat chapter 7 the river in its Sunday garb a dress on the river a chance for the men absence of tastes in Harris George's blazer a day with the fashion plate young lady mrs. Thomas's tomb the man who loves not graves and coffins and skulls Harris mad his views on George banks and lemonade he forms tricks it was while passing through Molesey lock that Harris told me about his maze experience it took us some time to pass through as we were the only boat and it is a big lock I don't think I never remember to having seen more zealot before with only a single boat in it it is I suppose vaulters not even accepted the busiest lock on the river I have stood and watched it sometimes when you could not see any water at all but only a brilliant triangle of bright blazes and gay caps and saucy hats and many colored parasols and silk and rogues and cloaks and streaming ribbons and dainty whites when looking down and the lock from the key you might fancy it was a huge box into which flowers of every hue and shade have been thrown pell-mell and lay piled up in a rainbow heap that had every that covered every corner on a fine Sunday it presents this appearance nearly all day long whilst up the stream and down the stream lie waiting their turn outside the gates long lines of still more boats and boats are drawn nearer and passing away so that the shiny river from the palace to Hampton Church is dotted and decked with yellow and blue and orange and white and red and pink all the inhabitants of Hampton and mossy dressed themselves up in boating costume and come and mooch around the lock with their dogs and flirt and smoke and watch the boats and all together with the caps and jackets of the men the pretty colored dresses the women the excited dogs the moving boats the white sails the pleasant landscape and the sparkling water it is one of the gayest sights I know in near this dull old London town the river affords a good opportunity for dress for once away we men are able to show our taste in colors and I think we'd come out very naughty if you ask me I always like a little red in my things red and black you know my hair is a sort of golden brown a rather pretty shade I've been told and a dark red matches it beautifully and when I always think a light blue necktie goes so well with it and a pair of those Russian leather shoes and a silk red handkerchief around the waist a handkerchief looks so much better than a belt Harris always keeps two shades or mixtures of orange and yellow but I don't think he is wise in this at all his complexion is too dark for yellows yellows don't suit him there can be no question about it I want him to take blue as a background with white or cream for relief but there the less taste a person has some dress the more obstinate they always seem to be it's a great pity because you will never be a success as it is while there are one or two colors in which he might not look really so bad with his hat on George has bought some new things for the trip and none rather vexed about them the Blazer is loud I should not like George know that I thought so but there really is no other word for it he brought it home and showed us to us on Thursday evening we asked him what color he called it and he said he didn't know he didn't think there was a name for the color the man had told him it was an oriental design George put it on and asked us what we thought of it Harris said this is an object to hang over a flower bed in early spring to frighten away the birds he would respect it but that considered as an article address for any human being except a Margate clown it made him ill George got quite huffy Berta's Harris said if he didn't want his opinion why did he ask for it what troubles Harris and myself with regard to it is that we afraid it will attract attention to the boat girls also don't look half bad in a boat if prettily dressed nothing is more fetching to my thinking than a tasteful boating costume but a boating costume it will be as well if all ladies would understand ought to be a costume that can be worn in a boat not merely under a glass case it's utterly spoiled an excursion if you have folk in the boat who are thinking all the time a good deal more about their dress than of the trip it was my misfortune once to go for a water picnic with two ladies of this kind we did have a lively time they were both beautifully got up all lace and silky stuff and flowers and ribbons and dainty shoes and light gloves but they were dressed for a photographic studio not for a river they were the boat in costumes of the French fashion plate it was ridiculous fooling about in them anywhere near real earth air and water the first thing was that they thought the boat was not clean we dusted all the seats for them and then assured them that it was but they didn't believe us one of them rubbed the cushion with a forefinger of her glove and showed the results to the other they both sighed and sat down with an air of Christian martyrs trying to make themselves comfortable up against the stake you were liable to occasionally splash a little while sculling and it appeared that a drop of water ruined these costumes the marks would never come out and a stain was left on the dress forever I was stroke I did my best I feathered two feet high and I paused at the end of each stroke to like the blades drip before returning them and I picked out a smooth bit of water to drop them into again each time Bhau said after a while that he did not feel himself sufficiently accomplished as an oarsman to pull with me but that he should sit still if I would and study my stroke he said it was interesting him but notwithstanding all of this and try as I would I could not help an occasional flicker of water going over those dresses the girls did not complain but they huddled up close together and set their lips firm as every time I drop touch them they visibly shrank and shuddered it was a noble sight to see them suffering thus in silence but it unnerved me altogether I am too sensitive I go wild and fitful and my rowing and splash more and more the harder I tried not to him I gave it up at last and I said I'd row Bao Bao thought the arrangement will be better too and we change places the ladies gave an involuntary sigh of relief when they saw me go and quite brightened up for a moment poor girls they had better have put up with me the man they got now was a jolly light-hearted thick-headed sort of a chap with about as much sensitiveness in him as there might be a Newfoundland puppy you might look daggers at him for an hour and he would not notice it and it would not not trouble him if he did he set a good rollicking dashing stroke that scent spray playing all over the boat like a fountain and made the whole crowd sit up straight in no time when he spread more than a pint of water over one of those dresses if a pleasant little laugh and say I beg your pardon I'm sure and offer them his handkerchief to wipe it off with oh it's of no consequence the poor girls would murmur in reply and covertly draw rogues and coats over themselves to try and protect themselves with their lace parasols at lunch they had a very bad time of it people wanted them to sit on the grass and the grass was dusty the tree trunks against which there and vices the lean did not appear to have been brushed for weeks so they spread their handkerchiefs on the ground sat on those bolt upright somebody in walking by with a plate of beef steak pie tripped up over a root and sent the pie flying none of it went over them fortunately but the accident suggested a fresh danger to them and agitated them and whenever anybody moved about after that with in his hands that could fall and make a mess they watch that person with the growing anxiety until he sat down now their new girls said our friend bow to them cheerily after it was all over come along you've got to wash up they didn't understand him at first when they grasped the idea they said they feared they did not know how to wash up oh I'll soon show he cried it's rare fun you lie down on your I mean you lean over the bank you know and flush things about in the water the elder sister said she was afraid they hadn't got the dresses on suited to the work oh they'll be all right he said lightheartedly tuck him up and he made them do it too he told them that this sort of thing was half the fun of a picnic that he said it was very interesting now I come to think it over was that young man as dense headed as we thought or was he no impossible there was such a simple childlike expression about him Harris wants to get out at Hampton Church and go and see mrs. Thomas's tomb who is mrs. Thomas I asked after I know replied Harris she's a lady that's got a funny to him I want to see it I objected and I don't know whether it as I am built wrong but I didn't ever seem to Hank after tombstones myself I know that the proper thing to do when you arrive as a village or town is to rush off to the churchyard and enjoy the graves but it's a recreation I always deny myself I take no interest in creeping around dim and chilly churches behind Weezie old men and reading epitaphs not even slight bit of cracked brass the set in stone affords me what I call real happiness I shock respectable Saxons by the imperturbability I am able to assume before exciting X shion's and my lack of enthusiasm for the local family history while might in concealed anxiety to get outside wounds their feelings one golden morning of a sunny day I leant against a low stone wall the guarded a little village church and I smoked and drank in deep calm gladness from the sweet restful scene the gray old church with its clustering ivy and it's quaint carved wooden porch the white lane winding down the hill between tall rows of Elms the thatched roofed cottage peeping above their trim kept hedges the silver River in the hollow and the wooden hills beyond it was a lovely landscape it was a Dilek poetical and it inspired me I felt good and Noble I felt I didn't want to be sinful and wicked anymore I would come and live here and never do any more wrong and lead a blameless beautiful life and have silver hair when I got old and all that sort of thing in that moment I forgave all my friends and relations for their wickedness and custard nests add less them they did not know the time bless them they went to their abandoned way all unconscious of what I far away in that peaceful village was doing for them but I did it and I wish I could let them know that I had done it because I wanted to make them happy I was going on thinking all these grand tender thoughts well my reverie was broken in upon by a shrill piping voice cry out all right sir I'm a-comin I'm a-comin it's all right sir don't you be in a hurry I looked up and saw an old bald-headed man hobbling across the churchyard towards me carrying a huge bunch of keys in his hand that shook and jingled at every step I motioned him away with silent dignity but he's still advanced screeching out all the while I'm a-comin sir I'm a-coming I'm a little lame I ain't a surprise I used to be this way sir don't worry miserable old man I said I've come to I've come as soon as I could sir he replied my missus never see you till just this minute you follow me sir go away I replied leave me before I get over this wall and slay you he seemed surprised don't you want to see the tombs he said no I answered I don't I want to stop here leaning up against this gritty old wall now go away and don't disturb me I'm chock full of beautiful and Noble thoughts and I want to stop like it because it feels nice and good don't you come fooling around and making me mad and chipping away all my better feelings with this silly tombstone nonsense of yours go away and get somebody to bury you cheap and I'll pay half the expense he was bewildered for a moment he rubbed his eyes and looked hard at me I seemed human enough on the outside but he couldn't make it out he said he was a stranger in these parts you don't live here no I said I don't and you wouldn't if I did well then he said you want to go and see the tombs graves folks been buried you know coffins your horn and truther I replied getting aroused I do not want to see the tombs not your tombs why should I we have graves of our own our family house why my uncle Podger has a tomb in Kensal Green Cemetery that is a pride of all the countryside and my grandfather's vault in BO is capable of accommodating 8 visitors while my great aunt Susan as a brick grave in Finch and churchyard with a headstone with a coffee pot sort of thing in bas-relief upon it and a six-inch best white stone coping all the way round it cost pounds when I want graves it is to those places I will go and revel I do not want other folks when you yourself are buried I will come and see yours and that is all I could do for you he burst into tears he said that one of the tombs had a bit of stone on top of it that had been said by some to be probably part of the remains of the figure of a man and another have some words carved upon it that nobody had ever been able to decipher I still remained obdurate and in brokenhearted tones he said well won't you come and see the memorial window I would not even see that so he fired his last shot he drew near and whispered hoarsely I've got a couple of skulls down in the crypt he said come and see those oh do come and see the skulls you're a young man out for a holiday you want to enjoy yourself come and see the skulls and then I turned and fled and as I spared I heard him calling after me oh come and see the skulls come back see the skulls Harris however revels in tombs and graves and epitaph and monumental inscriptions and the thought of not seeing mrs. Thomas's grave made him crazy he said he'd looked forward to say mrs. Thomas's grave from the first moment the trip was proposed he said he wouldn't have joined if it hadn't been for the idea of saying mrs. Thomas's tomb I reminded him of George and how he had to get the boat up to Shepperton by five o'clock to meet him then he went for George what was George to fool about all day and leave us to lug this lumbering old top-heavy barge up and down the river by ourselves to meet him why couldn't George come and do some work why couldn't he have the day off and come down to us Bank we bowed what good was he at the bank I never see him doing any work in here there he continued whenever I go in he sits behind a bit of glass all day trying to look as if he's doing something what's the good of a man behind a bit of glass I have to work for my living why can't he work what use is he there what's the good of their banks they take your money and then when you draw a cheque they send it back smeared all over with ink saying no effects refer to Drori what's the good of that what's the sort that's the sort of trick they served me twice the last week I'm not going to stand it much longer I shall withdraw my account if he was here we could go and see that tomb I don't believe he's at the bank at all he's locking about somewhere that's what he's doing leaving us to do all the work I'm going to get out and have a drink I pointed out to him that we were miles away from a pub and then he went on about the river what was the good of the river and was everyone who came to the river to die of thirst it's always best to let Harris have his head when he gets like this then he pumps himself out and is quiet afterwards I reminded him that there was concentrated lemonade in the hamper and a gallon jar of water in the nose of the boat and that the only two wanted mixing to make a cool and refreshing beverage then he flew off about lemonade and suchlike sunday-school slops as he termed them ginger beer raspberry syrup etc etc he said they all produced dyspepsia and ruined body and soul alike and of the cause of half the crime in England he said he must drink something however and climbed up upon the seat and leant over to get the bottle it was right at the bottom of the hamper and seemed difficult to find and he had to lean over father and father and trying to see the boat at the same time from the topsy-turvy point of view he pulled the wrong line and sent the boat into the bank and the shock upset him and he dived right down to the hamper and stood there on his head holding onto both sides of the boat like grim death with his legs sticking up in the air he dared not move for fear of going over and had to stay there until I could get hold of his legs and haul him back that made him even madder end of chapter 7