The Washington times., 1903-11-29
By PAUL d. PERCY.

i-- VIZ tor 60 this narrative started on
his vacation. He had two weeks at
h disposal. and for some time had
batcd plans for his holiday, so as 10
street there from the greatest amount
q p.cazurc and profit 10 himself. He
finally decided on the canoe trip, and /
FOR that purpose provided himself with
The believing paraphernalia:
One c.ghteen-foot Norris canoe fur /
uished through the courtesy Of two
MEMBERS Of The Potomac Boat CIuIA; two !
small BOYS. neither of whom has ever
had an outing in his life: one second
hand army tent. XXI feet; six army
blankets. one lantern. one frying
pan. and one stew pan. one coffee !
pot and various other articles with
watch hunters and fishermen are
provided. including a rifle and re-
volvers and a black dog of uncertain
breed. whioN had been loaned for the
trip by its owner. On the last morn
ing. however. the dog went on a little
excursion Of his own. and so missed
the treat OF his life A substitute was
found at the pound.
Next day the embarkation began, and
We padded leisurely past the ugly but
picturesque canal scows moored along
the sides of the lower level. Under the
Aqueduct Bridge. through the stretch
familiar from rides to Cabin John
Bridge. and not till the strains of the
erry-go-round at the latter resort had
been left behind did we part company
with sights ana sounds which form
part of everyday life in a city. and en-
ter into the vast stiffness which broods
over the canal as nowhere else per-
haps in all the radius OF contiguous
States. One wonders at this silence at
FIRST. but the cause is not hard to fnd.
On the railway you have the noise OF
trains. On wagon roads there is ever
the rumble OF the wagon and the PUNK
Of the horses hoofs in the distance,
while on the canal there is nothing to
make noise. The boats and barges glide
through the water with scarcely /. rip
pie, the mule hoofs fall silently on the
soft turf OF the towpath. and il is hot
strange that the musical ~Ho-o-or' or
the blast OF the bugle. should call the
iocl1keeper from his house almost with
the first note. to open the heavy lock
gates
First Stop for Luncheon.
We stopped for luncheon that first day
in the shadow Of that famous faaco. the
would-be pooiroom on the District line.
in house which had evidently been
built in sections. one room added at a |
time. and WI erever the builder happened
TO start. with a fun-grown beech grow
irg right through one Of the rooms. 1t
was cur arst taste Of homemade bread,
country butter. and genuine cows milk.
and needless 10 say fun justice was done
10 the repast. Within a quarter OF g
mile came the first lock after leaving
Georgetown. and the experience was
somewhat exciting TO a novice.
You sing out for your lock when stm
a quarter Of a mile away. The keeper
comes out and looks for your boat II
you are closer than any boat coming in
the opposite direction, you get the lock.
and he let's the water out or IN, accord
ing as you a-e going up or down. With
the strange depravity Of inanimate
things, the lock is never ready for you.
unless you catch a boat in the very act
Of coming out Of the lock, which is
bound in the opposite direction to your
self. When .he lock IS finally ready. the
ponderous gates swing slowly open. and
you paddle in. The gates are then
closed. and you find yourself in a cool.
dark box Of stone some ten or twelve
feet deep, with the impatient water
roaring down at the upper end, while
the song OF the weir nearby, which al
lows tine passage OF the water from the
upper to the lower level in a graceful
waterfall. assails your ear so strongly
that you have 10 shout your request 70
the keeper that he shall turn the water
on slowly. as your boat is fragile. Some
times he VIII comply. and sometimes, as
iC In very glee, he turns all four pad
dies" on at once. and then you have all
you can do to keep your boat from
swapping. or being dashed against thu
stone walls and crushed like an egg
shell
Going Through the Lock.
After the Jock is half filled the wa
ters finding they cannot wreck you, be-
come more tranquil. and then the sen
sation Of rising TO new scenes. as into
a new world, and catching the vista of
the new level. is Something charming
At length the gates open before you. you
give a pleasant good-by TO the lock-
keeper. who has asked you how far you
came-'fWhal' In that boat? Well. I
swaziland paddle away on your new
level. There are seventy-five locks in
the canal. Sometimes they are as much
as fourteen miles apart. and again they
come IN groups Of as many as seven.
resembling Itsirsteps up the HILL
Not Up to STANDARD Rowing.
II had been decided that the Pocahon-
tas, the name Of our craft, should aver |
hge twenty miles day. thus covering
the 1S5 miles between Washington and
Cumberland n nine days. This was
finally accomplished. but the first days |
stunt was woefuny short of it. True, It