The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1918-11-15

n A QUIET reach OF the
Thames my friends house
boat Is tethered to two posts
as If it never meant to go
away, Fullerton J. Waldo writes from
London to the Philadelphia Ledger.
Just above the mooring place the old,
gnarled Charon who for a penny plies
his trade has dug up ancient British
poetry and Roman spearheads In the
eel-nursing mud. But we did not now
require his professional service, Tor
across the river to meet us came like
shaft of light his amateur rival.
("Rival," Of course, if you run the
word back to its origin, means one
who dwells on the bank of stream.)
She was a girl with hair of bur-
nished gold bobbed and filleted, who
bent manwise to the oars, in her yel-
low sweater and white skirt, naiad
Of the rushes who seemed to have ris-
en- out of the stream, its own authep-
tic spirit.
The houseboat itself, white-painted,
held aloft under its striped canopy and
over soft red rugs, hanging garden
Of geranium baskets, with vines whose
tendrils delicately wavered on the soft
whisper of the breeze. A clutter OF
canoes and punts gently fretted the
floating platform below, as though
upon a river Of Cathay. In the living
room, radiant with violas and roses
end geraniums, the filmy snow of the
curtains was parted by fireplace and
over it clock restored the sense OF
time that elsewhere was pleasantly
absent or negligible.
Met a Flying Man.
Two rallied gangways led ashore
and no sooner had I put my modest
luggage aboard than to the shore we
went, to find the golf links close at
hand, where the fat sheep grazed. A
young and debonair Englishman met
us there, and I learned to my surprise
that he was accidental. He was
flying man, and something wrong with
the engine compelled him to volplane
down to paddock next the golf
course. "'Tis an i'll wind that has
blown me good" thought, as 1 shook
hands with this Brushwood boy angel
unawares.
The larks were singing, and paused
often with cleek or lofter in midalr
to hear the sound. think care more
for George Meredith's Lark Ascend
ing" than do for Shelley's "unpremedi
tated" singer, but if 1 had to choose
between them would take them both.
Such overf1owing billfuls of ecstasy,
from such a little bird! And he pres
emily went off (it seemed) in company
with disreputable troupe of sparrow
hawks, singing to them still, as an
opera tenor might chant for a COM
pany of sonGess tramps. Can 1t be
that an English links, with Paul Pot
ter cattle and Daubigny pools and will
lows round about, ever hears a harsh
word over a golf ball sliced or stymied
or in obstinate hiding?
Above us airplanes purred and were
yigilant increasingly. And in my heart
I blessed them, and with my hand
I waved them greetings that l hope
they saw. In single group on the
way to the links had beheld seven
captive sausage" balloons-as though
benevolent constitutional monarchy
had sent all these things that plain
American might have an afternoon OF
sport. What close neighbors are the
implements of war and Of peace in
the old world today!
We walked back to the boat, through
garden plot brimming with blue Vi
olas, and there was a tiny cemetery
with more violas in a glass on the
grave of cygnet born the day before.
Mother Bird Had Done Murder.
Then we met the mother bird, the
murderess. In stately circles she was
swimming round the boat, swan
more lovely to look upon than any
that. bore Lohengrin and heard his
tributary song.
The day before four cygnets were
tatched out. Three of them were with
her now-the fourth, she had decided,
with an unruffled calm l doubt not,