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plague now and then in London to get rid of both the lawyers and the 

Parliament。



During the Parliamentary struggle; Reading was besieged by the Earl of 

Essex; and; a quarter of a century later; the Prince of Orange routed 

King James's troops there。



Henry I。 lies buried at Reading; in the Benedictine abbey founded by him 

there; the ruins of which may still be seen; and; in this same abbey; 

great John of Gaunt was married to the Lady Blanche。



At Reading lock we came up with a steam launch; belonging to some friends 

of mine; and they towed us up to within about a mile of Streatley。  It is 

very delightful being towed up by a launch。  I prefer it myself to 

rowing。  The run would have been more delightful still; if it had not 

been for a lot of wretched small boats that were continually getting in 

the way of our launch; and; to avoid running down which; we had to be 

continually easing and stopping。  It is really most annoying; the manner 

in which these rowing boats get in the way of one's launch up the river; 

something ought to done to stop it。



And they are so confoundedly impertinent; too; over it。  You can whistle 

till you nearly burst your boiler before they will trouble themselves to 

hurry。  I would have one or two of them run down now and then; if I had 

my way; just to teach them all a lesson。



The river becomes very lovely from a little above Reading。  The railway 

rather spoils it near Tilehurst; but from Mapledurham up to Streatley it 

is glorious。  A little above Mapledurham lock you pass Hardwick House; 

where Charles I。 played bowls。  The neighbourhood of Pangbourne; where 

the quaint little Swan Inn stands; must be as familiar to the HABITUES of 

the Art Exhibitions as it is to its own inhabitants。



My friends' launch cast us loose just below the grotto; and then Harris 

wanted to make out that it was my turn to pull。  This seemed to me most 

unreasonable。  It had been arranged in the morning that I should bring 

the boat up to three miles above Reading。  Well; here we were; ten miles 

above Reading!  Surely it was now their turn again。



I could not get either George or Harris to see the matter in its proper 

light; however; so; to save argument; I took the sculls。  I had not been 

pulling for more than a minute or so; when George noticed something black 

floating on the water; and we drew up to it。  George leant over; as we 

neared it; and laid hold of it。  And then he drew back with a cry; and a 

blanched face。



It was the dead body of a woman。  It lay very lightly on the water; and 

the face was sweet and calm。  It was not a beautiful face; it was too 

prematurely aged…looking; too thin and drawn; to be that; but it was a 

gentle; lovable face; in spite of its stamp of pinch and poverty; and 

upon it was that look of restful peace that comes to the faces of the 

sick sometimes when at last the pain has left them。



Fortunately for us … we having no desire to be kept hanging about 

coroners' courts … some men on the bank had seen the body too; and now 

took charge of it from us。



We found out the woman's story afterwards。  Of course it was the old; old 

vulgar tragedy。  She had loved and been deceived … or had deceived 

herself。  Anyhow; she had sinned … some of us do now and then … and her 

family and friends; naturally shocked and indignant; had closed their 

doors against her。



Left to fight the world alone; with the millstone of her shame around her 

neck; she had sunk ever lower and lower。  For a while she had kept both 

herself and the child on the twelve shillings a week that twelve hours' 

drudgery a day procured her; paying six shillings out of it for the 

child; and keeping her own body and soul together on the remainder。



Six shillings a week does not keep body and soul together very unitedly。  

They want to get away from each other when there is only such a very 

slight bond as that between them; and one day; I suppose; the pain and 

the dull monotony of it all had stood before her eyes plainer than usual; 

and the mocking spectre had frightened her。  She had made one last appeal 

to friends; but; against the chill wall of their respectability; the 

voice of the erring outcast fell unheeded; and then she had gone to see 

her child … had held it in her arms and kissed it; in a weary; dull sort 

of way; and without betraying any particular emotion of any kind; and had 

left it; after putting into its hand a penny box of chocolate she had 

bought it; and afterwards; with her last few shillings; had taken a 

ticket and come down to Goring。



It seemed that the bitterest thoughts of her life must have centred about 

the wooded reaches and the bright green meadows around Goring; but women 

strangely hug the knife that stabs them; and; perhaps; amidst the gall; 

there may have mingled also sunny memories of sweetest hours; spent upon 

those shadowed deeps over which the great trees bend their branches down 

so low。



She had wandered about the woods by the river's brink all day; and then; 

when evening fell and the grey twilight spread its dusky robe upon the 

waters; she stretched her arms out to the silent river that had known her 

sorrow and her joy。  And the old river had taken her into its gentle 

arms; and had laid her weary head upon its bosom; and had hushed away the 

pain。



Thus had she sinned in all things … sinned in living and in dying。  God 

help her! and all other sinners; if any more there be。



Goring on the left bank and Streatley on the right are both or either 

charming places to stay at for a few days。  The reaches down to 

Pangbourne woo one for a sunny sail or for a moonlight row; and the 

country round about is full of beauty。  We had intended to push on to 

Wallingford that day; but the sweet smiling face of the river here lured 

us to linger for a while; and so we left our boat at the bridge; and went 

up into Streatley; and lunched at the 〃Bull;〃 much to Montmorency's 

satisfaction。



They say that the hills on each ride of the stream here once joined and 

formed a barrier across what is now the Thames; and that then the river 

ended there above Goring in one vast lake。  I am not in a position either 

to contradict or affirm this statement。  I simply offer it。



It is an ancient place; Streatley; dating back; like most river…side 

towns and villages; to British and Saxon times。  Goring is not nearly so 

pretty a little spot to stop at as Streatley; if you have your choice; 

but it is passing fair enough in its way; and is nearer the railway in 

case you want to slip off without paying your hotel bill。









CHAPTER XVII。





WASHING DAY。 … FISH AND FISHERS。 … ON THE ART OF ANGLING。 … A 

CONSCIENTIOUS FLY…FISHER。 … A FISHY STORY。



WE stayed two days at Streatley; and got our clothes washed。  We had 

tried washing them ourselves; in the river; under George's 

superintendence; and it had been a failure。  Indeed; it had been more 

than a failure; because we were worse off after we had washed our clothes 

than we were before。  Before we had washed them; they had been very; very 

dirty; it is true; but they were just wearable。  AFTER we had washed them 

… well; the river between Reading and Henley was much cleaner; after we 

had washed our clothes in it; than it was before。  All the dirt contained 

in the river between Reading and Henley; we collected; during that wash; 

and worked it into our clothes。



The washerwoman at Streatley said she felt she owed it to herself to 

charge us just three times the usual prices for that wash。  She said it 

had not been like washing; it had been more in the nature of excavating。



We paid the bill without a murmur。



The neighbourhood of Streatley and Goring is a great fishing centre。  

There is some excellent fishing to be had here。  The river abounds in 

pike; roach; dace; gudgeon; and eels; just here; and you can sit and 

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