Some will return to
us, but for others there waited the _eternum exitium cymbae_--a very
different craft from those to which they were accustomed, but they
accepted it with pride and without a murmur.
Bearing these things in mind, I went to Henley last week to interview
Father Thames. I found the veteran totally unchanged in his quarters
on the Temple Island, and immediately began the interview.
"Dull?" he said. "I believe you, my boy. But they tell me there's talk
of reviving the regatta. You tell them with my compliments not to be
in too great a hurry about it. Think of what Henley meant to the lads
who rowed. They hadn't learnt their skill in a day--no, nor in as many
days as go to a year."
"Do you then," I said, "consider the regatta only from the oarsman's
point of view?"
"Really," said the old gentleman, "there's no other. Not but what," he
added with a chuckle, "it gave them more pleasure to row their races
with lots of pretty faces to look on. Lor' bless you, I don't object
to 'em. It's the prettiest scene in the world when the sun shines as
it sometimes does. And that's enough talking for one afternoon.
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