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Three Men in a Boat (Graded Reader), Chapter Three. The First Day on the River

Chapter Three. The First Day on the River

Harris told me the story about the maze while we were at Moulsey lock. We were the only boat there that day. However, normally it's very busy. Sometimes it's almost impossible to see the water; there are so many boats and people. On those days the place is full of colour: the men's blazers and the women's pretty dresses and parasols.

On Sundays, when the weather is good, there are lines of boats on both sides of the lock. Some are waiting to go up the river and some to go down. The lock is a place to meet and all the people from Moulsey and Hampton go there on a Sunday afternoon. They relax, talk and watch the boats. It's a place for fashion too.

I choose my clothes carefully. I like to have a little dark red in my clothes: I think it's nice with my fair hair. I like to wear a light blue tie too and a red handkerchief, not a belt.

Harris always wears oranges and yellows. I don't think he should. He's too dark. I think blue is better for him. I've told him many times but he never listens.

George has bought some new clothes for the trip but I don't like them. The blazer is a terrible colour. When Harris asked him the name of it he couldn't say. The problem is that when he wears that blazer everyone will look at our small boat.

Harris wanted to stop at Hampton Church. There was a tomb there that he wanted to see. Why are people so interested in tombs? I really don't understand it. Once I was walking in the countryside and stopped to rest next to a wall. There was a church on the other side. It was a lovely day and the place filled my heart with poetry. I wanted to be a better man and live a good life. I wanted to live in that perfect little village and… Someone shouted. My dream ended.

‘I'm coming! I'm coming!' I saw an old man on the other side of the wall. He was walking fast in my direction, carrying a lot of keys.

‘One moment. I'm coming!' he said again.

‘Go away, you old fool!' I shouted. ‘Go away before I come over the wall and kill you!' He stopped, surprised.

‘I've come to show you the tombs,' he explained.

‘I don't want to see them. Go away!' I answered.

‘But you're a stranger here. You must want to see them.'

‘No, I don't. I'm not interested in your old tombs.'

‘But… But…' He couldn't understand me. Then he had an idea. He started to say something. I decided to run away: it was easier.

Harris loves tombs and, for some reason, he really wanted to see this one. I didn't want to and needed to think quickly.

‘What about George? We'll be late if we stop,' I told him. He knew it was true and so became angry with George.

‘Why didn't he come with us this morning? Why did he go to the bank, anyway? Not to work, that's for sure. I've never seen him do any,' he said. He was angry now.

‘I'm thirsty,' he said. ‘I want a drink.'

‘There's some lemonade in the hamper,' I told him.

‘Lemonade! What sort of a drink is that?' he answered. However, he was thirsty. He stood on the seat and looked for the lemonade. It was at the bottom of the hamper. Harris went lower and lower. He was steering the boat at the same time. It isn't an easy thing to do when you're looking in a hamper. He turned the boat the wrong way and it hit the riverbank. Harris fell. He put his hands out and held onto the hamper as he was falling. Soon he was on his back with the hamper on his head.

‘Get this thing off me!' he shouted. He was even angrier now than before.

We stopped for lunch. We were sitting on the grass next to the river, when a man came along.

‘Do you know this part of the river belongs to my boss? You shouldn't be here,' he said. We thanked him for the information and Harris offered him some bread and jam. He didn't want any and told us to leave. But we were happy where we were. He looked at Harris (a big fellow) and tried to decide what to do.

‘I'll go and tell my boss and then I'll be back,' he said and walked away. Of course he didn't return. What he really wanted was money from us. Some people actually pay these men. I become very angry when I think about it. But they aren't the real problem. It's the people who put signs everywhere and stop others enjoying the river. I said this to Harris and he agreed.

‘I'd like to get a hammer and put a sign on their heads,' I said.

‘I'd like to start a big fire in their houses too. And sing while I watch it,' Harris added. I don't like it when Harris talks like this. It isn't necessary. I thought the songs were too much and told him so.

He agreed not to sing. And those who've heard Harris sing know this was a very good thing.

I remember another story about singing. We were at a party where there was music and singing. Everyone was enjoying it except two young men. They were bored.

‘There's a German man here tonight. We've heard him sing and he's very funny,' one of them said.

‘Is he really? Why?' we asked.

‘Because he sings a funny song but all the time his face is sad. Oh, I laughed and laughed,' said the other.

Of course we wanted to hear the song. They asked the gentleman to sing and he agreed. The song was in German and nobody spoke German. So we all watched the two young men and followed their example. When they smiled we smiled, when they laughed we laughed. The German gentleman was surprised at first and then became angrier and angrier. At the end of the song he shouted at us all in German and left. We learnt that it wasn't a funny song: it was actually a very sad one. We all looked for the two young men but they weren't there. The party ended very quickly after that.

We finally arrived at Shepperton. The first thing we saw on the lock was George's blazer. Then George. Montmorency barked, Harris and I shouted and then George saw us. He was holding something in brown paper. It was a bit like a frying-pan.

‘What have you got there, George?' Harris asked.

‘It's a banjo,' he answered, happy.

‘I didn't know you played,' Harris said.

‘I don't,' George told us. He got in.

‘Now you're here, you can do some work,' Harris said.

‘But I've been at the bank all day. I'm tired,' George answered. He looked at Harris's face. It was the face of a man who wasn't interested in his friend's hard day at the bank.

‘Alright. I'll make us some tea,' he offered. Harris gave him the tow-line.

‘Oh no you won't! Take this and get out and pull!' he said. George got out.

I know some funny stories about tow-lines and towing. Once we were going down the river when we saw two men on the riverbank. They looked very surprised and worried. We stopped to see if they were alright.

‘What's wrong? Can we help?' we asked.

‘It's our boat! It's gone!' one of them said. ‘We only got out for a moment. When we turned round it wasn't here.' We offered to go down the river and bring their boat back to them. They accepted immediately. But I'll never forget their surprised faces.

When two people pull together it's dangerous. They always start talking and forget about the boat. If the third man on the boat has a problem, he can shout and shout. They won't hear him.

George told us about one time he was out on a boat with three friends. They saw a young man and woman walking along, talking, clearly in love. They were carrying a tow-line but there was no boat at the end of it. The line was in the water. George wanted to tell them but then had a better idea. He decided to use it. He fixed it to his boat.

Then his friends and he picked up their pipes and relaxed. The young man and woman never looked round and pulled them along for an hour or more. When they got to the lock they saw their mistake and were very surprised.

‘Oh, but where's my aunt then?' the young woman asked sadly. George never knew if they found her or not.

Another time we met a boat moving very fast up the river. A young boy on a horse, was pulling the boat. The men on it were relaxing, enjoying the trip. Then one of the men pulled the wrong line. The boat hit the riverbank and went up it with a terrible noise. Two men and a hamper flew out immediately. Then two more fell out with more bags and things. The last man finally fell out too. The boat was much lighter now and the horse went faster. The men shouted to the boy but he didn't hear them. The horse, boy and boat were soon round the corner, out of view. We weren't sorry for the men. It should happen more. Using a horse to pull a boat is dangerous for all the other boats on the river.

I love it when girls take the tow-line: it's so exciting. They always get the line round their legs or necks. Or they want a scarf or something that's on the boat. So they leave the line and come back to get it. The boat goes where it wants. No, it's never boring with girls pulling.

George pulled us to the next lock where we discussed what to do. We were planning to camp on the boat that night. Should we stop where we were or not? The sun was still out. We thought it was too early to stop. We decided to go to Runnymede, about three more miles up the river. It was a mistake. Three miles isn't far early in the day when you aren't tired. In the evening, however, it's different. You think you'll never arrive.

I remember one time I was out with my cousin. It was quite late and she became a little worried. She wanted to be home for supper. I took out a map and studied the situation. We weren't far from the next lock and then it was another five miles after that.

‘Don't worry. We'll soon be at Wallingford lock,' I said.

‘Can you see the lock yet?' I asked after a while. She couldn't. We went on some more.

‘Now can you see it?' Again her answer was ‘no'.

‘You know what a lock looks like, don't you?' I asked.

‘Look for yourself,' she said. I did. I couldn't see anything except the river.

‘Are we lost?' she asked. I didn't see how that was possible. I was actually a bit worried but, of course, I didn't tell her this.

It was dark now and the river wasn't so friendly. I was a little afraid. Then we heard voices. A boat was coming in our direction.

‘Hello!' I shouted. ‘Are we near Wallingford lock?

‘Wallingford, did you say?' someone answered. ‘There's no lock there now. There hasn't been for a year or more! But you're not far from the next one.'

Sweet words! We were so happy. They were right: the lock wasn't far and we were home in time for supper.

Chapter Three. The First Day on the River Kapitel 3. Der erste Tag auf dem Fluss Κεφάλαιο τρίτο. Η πρώτη μέρα στο ποτάμι Capítulo III. El primer día en el río فصل سه. روز اول روی رودخانه Chapitre trois. Le premier jour sur le fleuve Capitolo 3. Il primo giorno sul fiume 第3章川での初日 챕터 3. 강에서의 첫날 Trečiasis skyrius. Pirmoji diena upėje Hoofdstuk Drie. De eerste dag op de rivier Rozdział trzeci. Pierwszy dzień na rzece Capítulo Três. O primeiro dia no rio Глава третья. Первый день на реке Üçüncü Bölüm. Nehirdeki İlk Gün Розділ третій. Перший день на річці 第三章。河上第一天 第三章。河上第一天

Harris told me the story about the maze while we were at Moulsey lock. We were the only boat there that day. However, normally it's very busy. Sometimes it's almost impossible to see the water; there are so many boats and people. On those days the place is full of colour: the men's blazers and the women's pretty dresses and parasols.

On Sundays, when the weather is good, there are lines of boats on both sides of the lock. Some are waiting to go up the river and some to go down. The lock is a place to meet and all the people from Moulsey and Hampton go there on a Sunday afternoon. They relax, talk and watch the boats. It's a place for fashion too.

I choose my clothes carefully. I like to have a little dark red in my clothes: I think it's nice with my fair hair. I like to wear a light blue tie too and a red handkerchief, not a belt.

Harris always wears oranges and yellows. I don't think he should. He's too dark. I think blue is better for him. I've told him many times but he never listens.

George has bought some new clothes for the trip but I don't like them. The blazer is a terrible colour. When Harris asked him the name of it he couldn't say. The problem is that when he wears that blazer everyone will look at our small boat.

Harris wanted to stop at Hampton Church. There was a tomb there that he wanted to see. Why are people so interested in tombs? I really don't understand it. Once I was walking in the countryside and stopped to rest next to a wall. There was a church on the other side. It was a lovely day and the place filled my heart with poetry. I wanted to be a better man and live a good life. I wanted to live in that perfect little village and… Someone shouted. My dream ended.

‘I'm coming! I'm coming!' I saw an old man on the other side of the wall. He was walking fast in my direction, carrying a lot of keys.

‘One moment. I'm coming!' he said again.

‘Go away, you old fool!' I shouted. ‘Go away before I come over the wall and kill you!' He stopped, surprised.

‘I've come to show you the tombs,' he explained.

‘I don't want to see them. Go away!' I answered.

‘But you're a stranger here. You must want to see them.'

‘No, I don't. I'm not interested in your old tombs.'

‘But… But…' He couldn't understand me. Then he had an idea. He started to say something. I decided to run away: it was easier.

Harris loves tombs and, for some reason, he really wanted to see this one. I didn't want to and needed to think quickly.

‘What about George? We'll be late if we stop,' I told him. He knew it was true and so became angry with George.

‘Why didn't he come with us this morning? Why did he go to the bank, anyway? Not to work, that's for sure. I've never seen him do any,' he said. He was angry now.

‘I'm thirsty,' he said. ‘I want a drink.'

‘There's some lemonade in the hamper,' I told him.

‘Lemonade! What sort of a drink is that?' he answered. However, he was thirsty. He stood on the seat and looked for the lemonade. It was at the bottom of the hamper. Harris went lower and lower. He was steering the boat at the same time. It isn't an easy thing to do when you're looking in a hamper. He turned the boat the wrong way and it hit the riverbank. Harris fell. He put his hands out and held onto the hamper as he was falling. Soon he was on his back with the hamper on his head.

‘Get this thing off me!' he shouted. He was even angrier now than before.

We stopped for lunch. We were sitting on the grass next to the river, when a man came along.

‘Do you know this part of the river belongs to my boss? You shouldn't be here,' he said. We thanked him for the information and Harris offered him some bread and jam. He didn't want any and told us to leave. But we were happy where we were. He looked at Harris (a big fellow) and tried to decide what to do.

‘I'll go and tell my boss and then I'll be back,' he said and walked away. Of course he didn't return. What he really wanted was money from us. Some people actually pay these men. I become very angry when I think about it. But they aren't the real problem. It's the people who put signs everywhere and stop others enjoying the river. I said this to Harris and he agreed.

‘I'd like to get a hammer and put a sign on their heads,' I said.

‘I'd like to start a big fire in their houses too. And sing while I watch it,' Harris added. I don't like it when Harris talks like this. It isn't necessary. I thought the songs were too much and told him so.

He agreed not to sing. And those who've heard Harris sing know this was a very good thing.

I remember another story about singing. We were at a party where there was music and singing. Everyone was enjoying it except two young men. They were bored.

‘There's a German man here tonight. We've heard him sing and he's very funny,' one of them said.

‘Is he really? Why?' we asked.

‘Because he sings a funny song but all the time his face is sad. Oh, I laughed and laughed,' said the other.

Of course we wanted to hear the song. They asked the gentleman to sing and he agreed. The song was in German and nobody spoke German. So we all watched the two young men and followed their example. When they smiled we smiled, when they laughed we laughed. The German gentleman was surprised at first and then became angrier and angrier. At the end of the song he shouted at us all in German and left. We learnt that it wasn't a funny song: it was actually a very sad one. We all looked for the two young men but they weren't there. The party ended very quickly after that.

We finally arrived at Shepperton. The first thing we saw on the lock was George's blazer. Then George. Montmorency barked, Harris and I shouted and then George saw us. He was holding something in brown paper. It was a bit like a frying-pan.

‘What have you got there, George?' Harris asked.

‘It's a banjo,' he answered, happy.

‘I didn't know you played,' Harris said.

‘I don't,' George told us. He got in.

‘Now you're here, you can do some work,' Harris said.

‘But I've been at the bank all day. I'm tired,' George answered. He looked at Harris's face. It was the face of a man who wasn't interested in his friend's hard day at the bank.

‘Alright. I'll make us some tea,' he offered. Harris gave him the tow-line.

‘Oh no you won't! Take this and get out and pull!' he said. George got out.

I know some funny stories about tow-lines and towing. Once we were going down the river when we saw two men on the riverbank. They looked very surprised and worried. We stopped to see if they were alright.

‘What's wrong? Can we help?' we asked.

‘It's our boat! It's gone!' one of them said. ‘We only got out for a moment. When we turned round it wasn't here.' We offered to go down the river and bring their boat back to them. They accepted immediately. But I'll never forget their surprised faces.

When two people pull together it's dangerous. They always start talking and forget about the boat. If the third man on the boat has a problem, he can shout and shout. They won't hear him.

George told us about one time he was out on a boat with three friends. They saw a young man and woman walking along, talking, clearly in love. They were carrying a tow-line but there was no boat at the end of it. The line was in the water. George wanted to tell them but then had a better idea. He decided to use it. He fixed it to his boat.

Then his friends and he picked up their pipes and relaxed. The young man and woman never looked round and pulled them along for an hour or more. When they got to the lock they saw their mistake and were very surprised.

‘Oh, but where's my aunt then?' the young woman asked sadly. George never knew if they found her or not.

Another time we met a boat moving very fast up the river. A young boy on a horse, was pulling the boat. The men on it were relaxing, enjoying the trip. Then one of the men pulled the wrong line. The boat hit the riverbank and went up it with a terrible noise. Two men and a hamper flew out immediately. Then two more fell out with more bags and things. The last man finally fell out too. The boat was much lighter now and the horse went faster. The men shouted to the boy but he didn't hear them. The horse, boy and boat were soon round the corner, out of view. We weren't sorry for the men. It should happen more. Using a horse to pull a boat is dangerous for all the other boats on the river.

I love it when girls take the tow-line: it's so exciting. They always get the line round their legs or necks. Or they want a scarf or something that's on the boat. So they leave the line and come back to get it. The boat goes where it wants. No, it's never boring with girls pulling.

George pulled us to the next lock where we discussed what to do. We were planning to camp on the boat that night. Should we stop where we were or not? The sun was still out. We thought it was too early to stop. We decided to go to Runnymede, about three more miles up the river. It was a mistake. Three miles isn't far early in the day when you aren't tired. In the evening, however, it's different. You think you'll never arrive.

I remember one time I was out with my cousin. It was quite late and she became a little worried. She wanted to be home for supper. I took out a map and studied the situation. We weren't far from the next lock and then it was another five miles after that.

‘Don't worry. We'll soon be at Wallingford lock,' I said.

‘Can you see the lock yet?' I asked after a while. She couldn't. We went on some more.

‘Now can you see it?' Again her answer was ‘no'.

‘You know what a lock looks like, don't you?' I asked.

‘Look for yourself,' she said. I did. I couldn't see anything except the river.

‘Are we lost?' she asked. I didn't see how that was possible. I was actually a bit worried but, of course, I didn't tell her this.

It was dark now and the river wasn't so friendly. I was a little afraid. Then we heard voices. A boat was coming in our direction.

‘Hello!' I shouted. ‘Are we near Wallingford lock?

‘Wallingford, did you say?' someone answered. ‘There's no lock there now. There hasn't been for a year or more! But you're not far from the next one.'

Sweet words! We were so happy. They were right: the lock wasn't far and we were home in time for supper.