- perhaps a pensioner of the manor would not permit us to approach her shore in order to photograph the island and the mossgrown bridge, which appears more like a well-designed stage-setting than a structure in man's service.

The Beaver-
Tailed Dame of
the Banks of
Nuneham

In passing through that arm of the stream which washes the banks of Nuneham Park we disturbed the old dame's ducks with our audible admiration of the scene's loveliness. It may have been Russell's red face or my white hat, the refreshments tucked in the boat on both sides of Russell's round body; or it may have been due to the old lady's bad liver- a common complaint in the malaria of the Thames valley. At any rate, this irate dame took her stand on the duck-landing with a broom in her fist and a look on her unkindly face that portended assassination. As the nose of the canoe touched the beach, Russell leaned forward to step out. Suddenly a shower of gravel and water poured upon us from the enemy's vigorously wielded broom; a shove and a kick and we were literally swept out to sea, followed by the anathema of this rebellious shrew. There was no arguing the matter

with her for either brotherly love or the King's coin. Her obstructive zeal evidently amounted to a passion, and the kodaker from the fastnesses of New York seems to be the special bête noir of this beaver-tailed dame of the banks of Nuneham. However, once out of reach of her sand-spitting broom, we photographed her cottage and the bridge. Then, waving back our qualified respects, we emerged into the broader reach of the river.

The Abbey An

- Sutton

Culham - Clifton Hampden — The

River Tame Dorchester

American Vicaress The Jesse Window Shillingford The Swan Inn.

Just below the island we overtook the barrister and the architect in their catrigged boat making slow headway. They saw us come from under the rustic bridge, and inquired, with some curiosity: "How did you get through there?" "Oh," said Russell, "we got through there all right after one tornado and a large syndicate of small difficulties. Our pilot house is stove in, the first mate is full of gravel, and the helmsman disabled! Can you fellows lend me a clean shirt?"

A merry twinkle gleamed in the barrister's eyes as he viewed my mud-draggled colleague. He seemed to know the beaver-tailed dame of the banks of Nuneham.