Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome tells the story of three friends and their dog after they decide to take a boating trip along the Thames River. Taking a. Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), published in , is a humorous account by English writer Jerome K. Jerome of a boating holiday on the. Über eBooks bei Thalia ✓»Three Men in a Boat«von Jerome K. Jerome & weitere eBooks online kaufen & direkt downloaden!
Drei Mann in einem Boot (Roman)Three Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog), published in , is a humorous account by English writer Jerome K. Jerome of a boating holiday on the. Jerome K. Jerome: Three Men in a Boat | Drei Freunde beschließen, zusammen mit ihrem Hund eine Reise auf der friedlichen Themse zu unternehmen, und die. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome tells the story of three friends and their dog after they decide to take a boating trip along the Thames River. Taking a.
Three Men In A Boat Get A Copy VideoLearn English through story ★ Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K. Jerome
Jerome, My Life and Times Novels portal. A camping skiff is a boat with an easily erected canvas cover. This effectively turns the boat into a floating tent for overnight use.
It was a first weekly, then monthly miscellany, mostly fiction by little-known authors. The Bells of Ouseley at Old Windsor still exists, but the building was demolished and rebuilt in It is now part of the Harvester chain.
Three Men in a Boat To Say Nothing of the Dog. Retrieved 10 April — via Internet Archive. My Life and Times. Three Men in a Boat, Annotated and Introduced by Christopher Matthew and Benny Green.
Michael Joseph. Bristol: J W Arrowsmith. Jerome 8 July The Times The Guardian. Retrieved 6 June March Retrieved 28 June Retrieved 12 January Finally, this excellent adaptation is available on DVD in the UK Region 2 DVD , but can be played on region-free DVD players in the US, or one a computer's DVD player if it's set temporarily to Region 2, or made region-free.
I've seen it available at several UK retailers online. I've been waiting since for a professional release of this delightful little film.
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DID YOU KNOW? Crazy Credits. Alternate Versions. Rate This. Three London gentlemen take vacation rowing down the Thames, encountering various mishaps and misadventures along the way.
Director: Ken Annakin. Writers: Jerome K. Jerome freely adapted from the book "Three Men In A Boat" as the late Jerome K. Edit Storyline Harris, J, and George decide to take a holiday boating up the Thames to Oxford.
Taglines: A Million Laughs That Have Made Millions Laugh! Edit Did You Know? Trivia A box office disappointment in its native England, the film was nevertheless enthusiastically received in France.
Goofs After the picnic, the mud spatters from the dog on the girl's dress disappear in the medium shot. Was this review helpful to you? Yes No Report this.
Frequently Asked Questions This FAQ is empty. Add the first question. Edit Details Country: UK. Language: English.
Runtime: 84 min. Sound Mix: Mono Westrex Recording System. Color: Color Eastman Colour. It is quoted as a must-read for all humour afficionados: it is touted as one of the funniest books in the English language.
So I am a little bit ashamed that I waited so long to read it! Then, you may ask, why only the three stars? The pluses first.
The book is really humorous: in many places, I could not control my sniggers and was doubled up in front of the computer screen this was just before dinner yesterday, BTW, so m Three Men in a Boat is one of those books which have become legend.
The book is really humorous: in many places, I could not control my sniggers and was doubled up in front of the computer screen this was just before dinner yesterday, BTW, so my wife thought I was in agony from hunger and ran off to the kitchen to heat the food.
British humour is dependent on exaggeration and understatement. They exaggerate the humdrum the smell of cheese in the railway compartment, for example, from the tome under discussion and understate the momentous; and the disparity of scale produces the humour.
But the prose is always dead serious, the writer never for a moment advertising the fact that he is writing something funny.
It gets me every time, even on the re-reads sometime, in the case of P. Wodehouse, even on the re-re-re Jerome is a fine writer. As with all good writers of humour, language is putty in his hands.
I can detect many of Wodehouse's classic turns of phrase in Jerome's work, so Wodehouse must have drawn inspiration from him.
The minuses? Well, pretty much everything else. Apart from the humour, the book has little else to recommend it.
The journey is rambling and uninteresting: the discussion of the English villages do not stay in the mind: the historical vignettes, even though well-realised, seems to be too "text-book"y and out of place: and one particular passage, about the corpse of the lovely girl floating in the river, is outright bad and could be straight out of a pulp novel.
These dragged this book down from five stars to three stars for me. But I will still go back and read certain passages like Uncle Podger putting up the picture, Harris singing comic songs, the travails of the poor German singer, and George getting up early in the morning by mistake.
These are vintage British humour. Recommended for all those who love to laugh. Jul 06, Mith rated it it was amazing Shelves: slice-of-life , classics , funnies , i-needz-moar.
The ridiculously short review - Three hypochondriacs - JKJ, George and Harris - and their dog, Montmorency decide to go on a boating holiday on the Thames in order to recuperate from all the maladies in the world that, they firmly decide, have manifested in them.
Hilarity ensues. The "slightly" longer review - This gem of a book is laugh-out loud from start to finish.
JKJ reminds you of P. G Wodehouse a bit, in his style of writing I know JKJ was before Wodehouse, but I read the latter's works The ridiculously short review - Three hypochondriacs - JKJ, George and Harris - and their dog, Montmorency decide to go on a boating holiday on the Thames in order to recuperate from all the maladies in the world that, they firmly decide, have manifested in them.
G Wodehouse a bit, in his style of writing I know JKJ was before Wodehouse, but I read the latter's works first though, somehow, I found JKJ's style more easy to read than Wodehouse's.
It is simple, direct and the humour is just as relevant and witty even today. The book is generously peppered with witty anecdotes, hilarious observances and even the occasional sombre moments.
JKJ, I felt, is at his best when he is recounting something that happened in the past, or explaining a hypothetical situation, rather than when he's recounting what's happening in the current trip or going all poetic while describing Mother Nature.
That's Harris all over - so ready to take the burden of everything himself, and put it on the backs of other people.
Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need - a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog, and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear, and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.
I do think that, of all the silly, irritating tomfoolishness by which we are plagued, this "weather-forecast" fraud is about the most aggravating.
It "forecasts" precisely what happened yesterday or a the day before, and precisely the opposite of what is going to happen to-day. But who wants to be foretold the weather?
It is bad enough when it comes, without our having the misery of knowing about it beforehand. The barometer is useless: it is as misleading as the newspaper forecast.
There was one hanging up in a hotel at Oxford at which I was staying last spring, and, when I got there, it was pointing to "set fair.
I tapped the barometer, and it jumped up and pointed to "very dry. On Wednesday I went and hit it again, and the pointer went round towards "set fair," "very dry," and "much heat," until it was stopped by the peg, and couldn't go any further.
It tried its best, but the instrument was built so that it couldn't prophesy fine weather any harder than it did without breaking itself. It evidently wanted to go on, and prognosticate drought, and water famine, and sunstroke, and simooms, and such things, but the peg prevented it, and it had to be content with pointing to the mere commonplace "very dry.
Harris said that, as an object to hang over a flower-bed in early spring to frighten the birds away, he should respect it; but that, considered as an article of dress for any human being, it made him ill.
I asked my cousin if she thought it could be a dream, and she replied that she was just about to ask me the same question; and then we both wondered if we were both asleep, and if so, who was the real one that was dreaming, and who was the one that was only a dream; it got quite interesting.
People who have tried it, tell me that a clear conscience makes you very happy and contented; but a full stomach does the business quite as well, and is cheaper, and more easily obtained.
We had knocked those three old gentlemen off their chairs into a general heap at the bottom of the boat, and they were now slowly and painfully sorting themselves out from each other, and picking fish off themselves; and as they worked, they cursed us - not with a common cursory curse, but with long, carefully-thought-out, comprehensive curses, that embraced the whole of our career, and went away into the distant future, and included all our relations, and covered everything connected with us - good, substantial curses.
I like work: it fascinates me. We went into the parlour and sat down. There was an old fellow there, smoking a long clay pipe, and we naturally began chatting.
He told us that it had been a fine day to-day, and we told him that it had been a fine day yesterday, and then we all told each other that we thought it would be a fine day to-morrow.
Sep 06, Sassa rated it it was amazing. It is so LOL funny but so full of truth. Apparently his mother had a little humor in naming her son.
Three friends decide to take a boat trip down the River Thames and begin their planning by listing all the things they must take with them.
Failure to do so would only bring anxiety and worry. Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need—a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog, and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear, and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.
You will find the boat easier to pull then, and it will not be so liable to upset, and it will not matter so much if it does upset; good, plain merchandise will stand water.
You will have time to think as well as to work. Jerome initially planned this account of a fictional fortnight's boat trip up the Thames from Kingston to Oxford to be an actual travel guide and remnants of his intent appear sporadically and incongruously.
Fortunately, his gift for humor quickly took over the serialized episodes that were published as a book in , which has remained in print ever since.
The droll adventures and anecdotes of the narrator J and his friends George and Harris, accompanied by the dog Montmorency, put me in mind Jerome initially planned this account of a fictional fortnight's boat trip up the Thames from Kingston to Oxford to be an actual travel guide and remnants of his intent appear sporadically and incongruously.
The droll adventures and anecdotes of the narrator J and his friends George and Harris, accompanied by the dog Montmorency, put me in mind of P.
Wodehouse, who admired Jerome, and if you like the one, you'll like the other. Effectively describing humor is an even more arcane art than humor itself, so I'm not going to try, but I do recommend you give this a try; you'll know quickly whether it's for you.
Apr 09, Kim rated it really liked it Shelves: kindle. That I read this novel is due to serendipity. Wanting something on the light side to read while spending a few days at the beach, I decided to check out some Scandinavian crime fiction.
Why did I think this would constitute "light reading"?! A search for a suitable novel led me to read an article about Scandinavian crime fiction in the The Guardian.
Nothing jumped out at me, other than a link to another article in the same newspaper: crime writer Val McDermid's Top 10 Oxford Novels. Included That I read this novel is due to serendipity.
Included in McDermid's list was a novel I'd never heard of before, Connie Willis' To Say Nothing of the Dog , which I immediately decided to read.
However, A GR friend's review of that novel referred to this book, which I'd also never heard of before. I have, it seems, been living under a rock, because if the GR reviews are anything to go by, it's a classic.
Reading this before reading To Say Nothing of the Dog seemed like a good idea. So here I am, less than a week later, having finished reading this book and started on the novel it inspired.
First published in , the work is part novel, part travelogue and part memoir. Three friends - the narrator J, his friends Harris and George and Montmorency the dog, embark on a boat trip on the Thames.
The narrative alternates laugh-out-loud silliness, bits of purple prose which I think were meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but may just be examples of high Victorian descriptive language , information about the not always interesting localities through which the friends pass and discursive anecdotes of varying degrees of inherent interest.
It's a short work and there's enough humour in it to make the duller bits easy to get through. Reading this gave me plenty of laugh-out-loud moments on various forms of public transport.
It's lots of fun. Readers also enjoyed. About Jerome K. Jerome Klapka Jerome May 2, — June 14, was an English author, best known for the humorous travelogue Three Men in a Boat.
Other books in the series. Three Men 2 books. Books by Jerome K. Related Articles. Danielle Evans was just 26 when she released her short story collection Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self in , a multi-award-winning Read more Trivia About Three Men in a Bo Quotes from Three Men in a Boat.
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Read These Helpful Tips. Wirral Libraries Play Book Tag: [Poll Tally] Three Men in a Boat — Jerome K. Jerome - 4 stars. We therefore decided that we would sleep out on fine nights; and hotel it, and inn it, and pub.
Montmorency hailed this compromise with much approval. He does not revel in romantic solitude. Give him something noisy; and if a trifle low, so much the jollier.
To look at Montmorency you would imagine that he was an angel sent upon the earth, for some reason withheld from mankind, in the shape of a small fox-terrier.
There is a sort of Oh-what-a-wicked-world-this-is-and-how-I-wish-I-could-do-something-to-make-it-better-and-nobler expression about Montmorency that has been known to bring the tears into the eyes of pious old ladies and gentlemen.
When first he came to live at my expense, I never thought I should be able to get him to stop long. He will be snatched up to the bright skies in a chariot, that is what will happen to him.
Arrangements settled. So, on the following evening, we again assembled, to discuss and arrange our plans. Harris said:. Now, you get a bit of paper and write down, J.
He always reminds me of my poor Uncle Podger. You never saw such a commotion up and down a house, in all your life, as when my Uncle Podger undertook to do a job.
And then he would take off his coat, and begin. And then he would lift up the picture, and drop it, and it would come out of the frame, and he would try to save the glass, and cut himself; and then he would spring round the room, looking for his handkerchief.
He could not find his handkerchief, because it was in the pocket of the coat he had taken off, and he did not know where he had put the coat, and all the house had to leave off looking for his tools, and start looking for his coat; while he would dance round and hinder them.
Six of you! Might just as well ask the cat to find anything as expect you people to find it. And, when half an hour had been spent in tying up his finger, and a new glass had been got, and the tools, and the ladder, and the chair, and the candle had been brought, he would have another go, the whole family, including the girl and the charwoman, standing round in a semi-circle, ready to help.
Two people would have to hold the chair, and a third would help him up on it, and hold him there, and a fourth would hand him a nail, and a fifth would pass him up the hammer, and he would take hold of the nail, and drop it.
And we would all have to go down on our knees and grovel for it, while he would stand on the chair, and grunt, and want to know if he was to be kept there all the evening.
What did I do with the hammer? Great heavens! We would find the hammer for him, and then he would have lost sight of the mark he had made on the wall, where the nail was to go in, and each of us had to get up on the chair, beside him, and see if we could find it; and we would each discover it in a different place, and he would call us all fools, one after another, and tell us to get down.
And he would take the rule, and re-measure, and find that he wanted half thirty-one and three-eighths inches from the corner, and would try to do it in his head, and go mad.
And we would all try to do it in our heads, and all arrive at different results, and sneer at one another. And in the general row, the original number would be forgotten, and Uncle Podger would have to measure it again.
He would use a bit of string this time, and at the critical moment, when the old fool was leaning over the chair at an angle of forty-five, and trying to reach a point three inches beyond what was possible for him to reach, the string would slip, and down he would slide on to the piano, a really fine musical effect being produced by the suddenness with which his head and body struck all the notes at the same time.
And Aunt Maria would say that she would not allow the children to stand round and hear such language. At last, Uncle Podger would get the spot fixed again, and put the point of the nail on it with his left hand, and take the hammer in his right hand.
And then he would have another try, and, at the second blow, the nail would go clean through the plaster, and half the hammer after it, and Uncle Podger be precipitated against the wall with force nearly sufficient to flatten his nose.
Then we had to find the rule and the string again, and a new hole was made; and, about midnight, the picture would be up—very crooked and insecure, the wall for yards round looking as if it had been smoothed down with a rake, and everybody dead beat and wretched—except Uncle Podger.
Harris will be just that sort of man when he grows up, I know, and I told him so. I said I could not permit him to take so much labour upon himself.
I said:. The first list we made out had to be discarded. It was clear that the upper reaches of the Thames would not allow of the navigation of a boat sufficiently large to take the things we had set down as indispensable; so we tore the list up, and looked at one another!
George comes out really quite sensible at times. I call that downright wisdom, not merely as regards the present case, but with reference to our trip up the river of life, generally.
How many people, on that voyage, load up the boat till it is ever in danger of swamping with a store of foolish things which they think essential to the pleasure and comfort of the trip, but which are really only useless lumber.
It is lumber, man—all lumber! Throw it overboard. It makes the boat so heavy to pull, you nearly faint at the oars. Throw the lumber over, man!
Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need—a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog, and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear, and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.
You will find the boat easier to pull then, and it will not be so liable to upset, and it will not matter so much if it does upset; good, plain merchandise will stand water.
You will have time to think as well as to work. It is ever so much simpler, and more comfortable. It seemed a good thought, and we adopted it. I do not know whether you have ever seen the thing I mean.
You fix iron hoops up over the boat, and stretch a huge canvas over them, and fasten it down all round, from stem to stern, and it converts the boat into a sort of little house, and it is beautifully cosy, though a trifle stuffy; but there, everything has its drawbacks, as the man said when his mother-in-law died, and they came down upon him for the funeral expenses.
It is the same when you go to the sea-side. I always get red bathing drawers. I rather fancy myself in red drawers.
They suit my complexion so. On the contrary, I feel more that I want to stop in bed till the last moment, and then come down and have my breakfast.
Once or twice virtue has triumphed, and I have got out at six and half-dressed myself, and have taken my drawers and towel, and stumbled dismally off.
And when I do get to the sea, it is rough and quite insulting. One huge wave catches me up and chucks me in a sitting posture, as hard as ever it can, down on to a rock which has been put there for me.
I hop back and dress, and crawl home, where I have to pretend I liked it. George said it was so pleasant to wake up in the boat in the fresh morning, and plunge into the limpid river.
Harris said there was nothing like a swim before breakfast to give you an appetite. He said it always gave him an appetite.
George said that if it was going to make Harris eat more than Harris ordinarily ate, then he should protest against Harris having a bath at all.
He said there would be quite enough hard work in towing sufficient food for Harris up against stream, as it was.
Agreed, finally, that we should take three bath towels, so as not to keep each other waiting. For clothes, George said two suits of flannel would be sufficient, as we could wash them ourselves, in the river, when they got dirty.
We were to learn in the days to come, when it was too late, that George was a miserable impostor, who could evidently have known nothing whatever about the matter.
If you had seen these clothes after—but, as the shilling shockers say, we anticipate. George impressed upon us to take a change of under-things and plenty of socks, in case we got upset and wanted a change; also plenty of handkerchiefs, as they would do to wipe things, and a pair of leather boots as well as our boating shoes, as we should want them if we got upset.
The food question. It oozed. I never saw such a thing as paraffine oil is to ooze. We kept it in the nose of the boat, and, from there, it oozed down to the rudder, impregnating the whole boat and everything in it on its way, and it oozed over the river, and saturated the scenery and spoilt the atmosphere.
Sometimes a westerly oily wind blew, and at other times an easterly oily wind, and sometimes it blew a northerly oily wind, and maybe a southerly oily wind; but whether it came from the Arctic snows, or was raised in the waste of the desert sands, it came alike to us laden with the fragrance of paraffine oil.
And that oil oozed up and ruined the sunset; and as for the moonbeams, they positively reeked of paraffine. We tried to get away from it at Marlow.
We left the boat by the bridge, and took a walk through the town to escape it, but it followed us.
The whole town was full of oil. We passed through the church-yard, and it seemed as if the people had been buried in oil.
The High Street stunk of oil; we wondered how people could live in it. And we walked miles upon miles out Birmingham way; but it was no use, the country was steeped in oil.
At the end of that trip we met together at midnight in a lonely field, under a blasted oak, and took an awful oath we had been swearing for a whole week about the thing in an ordinary, middle-class way, but this was a swell affair —an awful oath never to take paraffine oil with us in a boat again-except, of course, in case of sickness.
Therefore, in the present instance, we confined ourselves to methylated spirit. Even that is bad enough. You get methylated pie and methylated cake.
But methylated spirit is more wholesome when taken into the system in large quantities than paraffine oil. For other breakfast things, George suggested eggs and bacon, which were easy to cook, cold meat, tea, bread and butter, and jam.
For lunch, he said, we could have biscuits, cold meat, bread and butter, and jam—but no cheese. Cheese, like oil, makes too much of itself.
It wants the whole boat to itself. It goes through the hamper, and gives a cheesy flavour to everything else there.
It all seems cheese. There is too much odour about cheese. I remember a friend of mine, buying a couple of cheeses at Liverpool.
Splendid cheeses they were, ripe and mellow, and with a two hundred horse-power scent about them that might have been warranted to carry three miles, and knock a man over at two hundred yards.
I called for the cheeses, and took them away in a cab. It was a ramshackle affair, dragged along by a knock-kneed, broken-winded somnambulist, which his owner, in a moment of enthusiasm, during conversation, referred to as a horse.
I put the cheeses on the top, and we started off at a shamble that would have done credit to the swiftest steam-roller ever built, and all went merry as a funeral bell, until we turned the corner.
There, the wind carried a whiff from the cheeses full on to our steed. It woke him up, and, with a snort of terror, he dashed off at three miles an hour.
The wind still blew in his direction, and before we reached the end of the street he was laying himself out at the rate of nearly four miles an hour, leaving the cripples and stout old ladies simply nowhere.
It took two porters as well as the driver to hold him in at the station; and I do not think they would have done it, even then, had not one of the men had the presence of mind to put a handkerchief over his nose, and to light a bit of brown paper.
I took my ticket, and marched proudly up the platform, with my cheeses, the people falling back respectfully on either side. The train was crowded, and I had to get into a carriage where there were already seven other people.
One crusty old gentleman objected, but I got in, notwithstanding; and, putting my cheeses upon the rack, squeezed down with a pleasant smile, and said it was a warm day.
And then they both began sniffing, and, at the third sniff, they caught it right on the chest, and rose up without another word and went out.
And then a stout lady got up, and said it was disgraceful that a respectable married woman should be harried about in this way, and gathered up a bag and eight parcels and went.
The remaining four passengers sat on for a while, until a solemn-looking man in the corner, who, from his dress and general appearance, seemed to belong to the undertaker class, said it put him in mind of dead baby; and the other three passengers tried to get out of the door at the same time, and hurt themselves.
I smiled at the black gentleman, and said I thought we were going to have the carriage to ourselves; and he laughed pleasantly, and said that some people made such a fuss over a little thing.
But even he grew strangely depressed after we had started, and so, when we reached Crewe, I asked him to come and have a drink. He accepted, and we forced our way into the buffet, where we yelled, and stamped, and waved our umbrellas for a quarter of an hour; and then a young lady came, and asked us if we wanted anything.
And he went off quietly after he had drunk it and got into another carriage, which I thought mean. From Crewe I had the compartment to myself, though the train was crowded.
As we drew up at the different stations, the people, seeing my empty carriage, would rush for it.
And they would run along, carrying heavy bags, and fight round the door to get in first. And one would open the door and mount the steps, and stagger back into the arms of the man behind him; and they would all come and have a sniff, and then droop off and squeeze into other carriages, or pay the difference and go first.
When his wife came into the room she smelt round for an instant. Then she said:. Tom bought them in Liverpool, and asked me to bring them up with me.
And I added that I hoped she understood that it had nothing to do with me; and she said that she was sure of that, but that she would speak to Tom about it when he came back.
She said:. I replied that he had directed they were to be kept in a moist place, and that nobody was to touch them. But, in this world, we must consider others.
The lady under whose roof I have the honour of residing is a widow, and, for all I know, possibly an orphan too. I decline to live any longer in the same house with them.
It was argued from this that little injury could result to the woman from the atmosphere, and she was left. The hotel bill came to fifteen guineas; and my friend, after reckoning everything up, found that the cheeses had cost him eight-and-sixpence a pound.
He said he dearly loved a bit of cheese, but it was beyond his means; so he determined to get rid of them. He threw them into the canal; but had to fish them out again, as the bargemen complained.
They said it made them feel quite faint. And, after that, he took them one dark night and left them in the parish mortuary. But the coroner discovered them, and made a fearful fuss.
My friend got rid of them, at last, by taking them down to a sea-side town, and burying them on the beach. It gained the place quite a reputation.
Visitors said they had never noticed before how strong the air was, and weak-chested and consumptive people used to throng there for years afterwards.
Harris grew more cheerful. George suggested meat and fruit pies, cold meat, tomatoes, fruit, and green stuff. It seemed to me that George harped too much on the getting-upset idea.
It seemed to me the wrong spirit to go about the trip in. They are a mistake up the river. They make you feel sleepy and heavy.
We made a list of the things to be taken, and a pretty lengthy one it was, before we parted that evening. The next day, which was Friday, we got them all together, and met in the evening to pack.
We got a big Gladstone for the clothes, and a couple of hampers for the victuals and the cooking utensils. We moved the table up against the window, piled everything in a heap in the middle of the floor, and sat round and looked at it.
I rather pride myself on my packing. Packing is one of those many things that I feel I know more about than any other person living.
It surprises me myself, sometimes, how many of these subjects there are. I impressed the fact upon George and Harris, and told them that they had better leave the whole matter entirely to me.
They fell into the suggestion with a readiness that had something uncanny about it. George put on a pipe and spread himself over the easy-chair, and Harris cocked his legs on the table and lit a cigar.
This was hardly what I intended. Their taking it in the way they did irritated me. I lived with a man once who used to make me mad that way.
He would loll on the sofa and watch me doing things by the hour together, following me round the room with his eyes, wherever I went.
He said it did him real good to look on at me, messing about. He said it made him feel that life was not an idle dream to be gaped and yawned through, but a noble task, full of duty and stern work.
He said he often wondered now how he could have gone on before he met me, never having anybody to look at while they worked.