The river was broad and brimful
of water; it seemed high tide already, and the boats pulled easily.
The fields sloped down to the river-banks, shaded with elms and parted
by hedgerows like a bit of English country. The freshest bloom of the
June greenness was in every blade of grass and every leaf. The birds
were beginning to sing the long day to a close, and the lowing of
cattle echoed from the pastures again and again across the water;
while the country boats were going home from the town, sometimes with
a crew of women, who seemed to have made this their regular conveyance
instead of following the more roundabout highways ashore. Some of
these navigators rowed with a cross-handed stroke that jerked their
boats along in a droll fashion, and some were propelled by one groping
oar, the sculler standing at the stern as if he were trying to push
his craft out of water altogether and take to the air, toward which
the lifted bow pointed. And in one of the river reaches half a mile
ahead, two heavy packet boats, with high-peaked lateen sails, like a
great bird's single wing, were making all the speed they could toward
port before the tide should begin to fall two hours later. The young
guest of the party was very happy; she had spent so many of her
childish days out of doors that a return to such pleasures always
filled her with strange delight. The color was bright in her cheeks,
and her half-forgotten girlishness came back in the place of the
gravity and dignity that had brought of late a sedate young
womanliness to her manner.
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