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44 BBADSHAW THE BETBAYEB.
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Transcript
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
.+. " Oh Doricles ! Your Praises Are Too...
my adventures on the Rhine and the Moselle ; my feats and failures on the Cam in college days long since gone by ; and thus pleasantly
running over my " rambles by rivers , " made my way towards that part of the Somme called the Hive des Bateaux .
It was a dismal spot just within the fortifications . To the left lay the city ; to the right high embankments , a drawbridge , a
stretch of flat country , and a long perspective of canal-like river bordered by files of monotonous poplars . The first object that met
mv _eyes w _& s the passage-boat moored up beside a tiny 'wooden landing-place . It was a heavy , square-built , green and yellow boat ,
with a dirty little pavilion at the poop . The interior of this pavilion was furnished with benches , and lit by a row of little
windows all the way round . On a shelf of deck near the prow sat some three or four grimy men , cooking their dinner over a brazier ;
and between this shelf and the pavilion the boat was laden with wood , hay , charcoal , and market produce . Altogether it was by no
means an inviting conveyance , and looked more like a coal barge with a shabby omnibus on deck than anything else that I can
think of . While I was yet observing these things , a fat official , with a gold
band to his cap , rolled lazily out of a little red bureau attached to the quay , and hung out a tariff of the tolls and rates of
conveyance . " Pray when does this boat leave , " I asked ; " and how long does
it take to go from here to St . Valery ? " The fat official brought a huge cigar out of his pocket , stabbed it
deliberately with a pin in two places , and stuck it in his mouth before replying .
" Starts at midday precis" said he . " Arrives between six and seven . "
" Six hours to travel twelve miles ! " I exclaimed . " Surely there must be some mistake ! "
" Fourteen miles by the river , " replied he , phlegmatically . " Nine stations . "
" And the fare ?" " Pavilion , seven francs : deck four . "
I hesitated , looked again at the boat , and thought it uglier and more uncomfortable than ever .
" And is the scenery interesting ? " I inquired , presently . " Plait-il ? ' * said the fat officiallooking somewhat puzzled .
, " The—the river , you know ! Is it pretty ? Is there anything to see ? "
He sucked silently at his cigar , turned a fishy eye upon me , stared languidly up the stream and down the stream , and finally
pointed with his thumb towards the perspective of poplars . " C ' est bien " said he , with placid satisfaction ; " c _' _est tres bien _,
cette riviere-ci . It is just like this all the way . "
44 Bbadshaw The Betbayeb.
44 BBADSHAW THE BETBAYEB .
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Citation
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English Woman’s Journal (1858-1864), March 1, 1858, page 44, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ewj/issues/ewj_01031858/page/44/
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