England

But the larger rivers are navigable to a more than ordinary degree, because they run their courses gently. Reinforcing the rivers are hu

R ROTHER

teeply on one side, a marshy meadow stretching away on the other. These marshes are flecked in proper season with most beautiful golden and blue and purple flowers, and fringed with handsome sedges. When it is meadow-land that meets the river there are buttercups and daisies and daffodils, and, at the very edge, forget-me-nots, as if to be remembrancers from the land to the water stealing away to the sea, to come back again on the chariots of th

ver is the most charming until one remembers the Thames, in which can be found an epitome of all river delight, from its estuary all along its winding course past London, Richmond, Hampton, Windsor, Maidenhead, Henley, Goring, Didcot, Oxford, and beyond Oxford until it turns south and south-west t

Spring is a pageant of dear delights. Dobell thus giv

ame the

e ban

iden look

window

battle ro

ooke

the stor

e the wi

alley le

nded mai

le streak

attle has

s to a

tter'

l'd in t

me the

first

ner'd show

crowd runs

about them they came tro

ppy peo

war has r

nd tabor, pi

make h

ring a rigorous winter; for there has been no spell of really fine weather and no rigours. Always the climate has been soft and apologetic. But Spring in England is ever delicious. The first awakening of the year is brimful of stirring delights. Perhaps the summer has been "unsatisfactory," one of these cold, damp summers which drift unaware into autumn; and autumn, though provid

nd had not been drawn from the gross soil beneath. Yes, Spring is beautiful, and there is the stimulating note in its beauty which is so often lacking in the English landscape. Much of bright serene content, much of reverend grace, much of misty and soft charm with a note of wistfulness, almost of melancholy, England may show through the summer, the aut

AT RICHMO

life within their grim-looking trunks. In the quiet stillness everything snuggles down to rest, and week after week, month after month, you become accustomed to seeing Nature asleep. Then of a sudden a south wind comes bearing t

iemps grata vice

siccas mach

ulis gaudet pecus

anis albica

g, for the Spring sends out her heralds to walk some distance before her steps; and there may be biting winds and nipping frosts yet. But the message is sure. Soon the daf

at Kew, the gradual filling up of the great valley which stretches below Richmond Hill, with colour and light and warmth,-these are not to be seen in an hour or a day, but call for many visits. If an occasional day of fog and mist obtrudes from out of

BY TH

nd would write-if he knew how to write-"Ego et Julius C?sar," for the Romans were not hypocrites enough to pretend that any man does not think himself as of the first importance to himself. Our modern way of pretending to be humble and "putting oneself second," the Romans knew nothing of; and their language made no provision for it. Wolsey wrote good Latin; and in time he came to lose the favour of the King, and with it this fine palace of Hampton Court, set

the great hall which ought to be called Blue Beard's Hall, because of its series of stained-glass windows pictu

he long series of little pleasure houses-afloat or ashore-which mark the Thames with a gay note for some miles up and down from Henley. In the summer these house-boats and bungalows, painted always in glowing colours, decked out with bright flowers, sheltering brightly-dressed people, are as gay as gay can be. The Englishman is a little serious in his pleasures some think; "on the river" he is usually hilarious. On Sundays and holidays in summer the dwellers by the river are reinforced by thousands of tri

re dressed in bright colours, and not too much dressed at that. It is the very lightest side of London life, that "on the river" of a summer Sunday; and over it all great quiet woods brood, and some of the swe

nd cool, or cheerful and exhilarating, or gentle and peaceful. What poetic syllables these rivers have won for their names-the Severn, the Darenth, the Avon, the Wye, the Dove, the Eden, the Dart, the Tamar, the Lynn,

FROM FELLOWS' E