But the Thames (or Isis as it is invariably called in Oxford) is the place of more serious matters. To the rowing man “the River” means only one thing, and really only a very short space of that: he is accustomed to speak of “the River” and “the Cher,” and with him the latter does not count at all. Everybody in the valley, certainly every boy and girl, knows about the Oxford and Cambridge Boatrace, which is held annually on the Thames at Putney, when two selected crews from the rival universities race each other over a distance. Probably quite a few of us have witnessed the exciting event. Well, “Boatrace Day” is merely the final act of a long drama, nearly all the scenes of which take place, not at Putney, but on the river at the University town. For the Varsity “eight” are only chosen from the various college crews after long months of arduous preparation. Each of the colleges has its own rowing club, and the college crews race against each other in the summer term. A fine sight it is, too, to see the long thin “eights” passing at a great pace in front of the beautifully decorated “Barges,” which are to the college rowing clubs what pavilions are to the cricket clubs. These “barges,” which stretch along the river front for some considerable distance, resemble nothing so much as the magnificent houseboats which we see lower down the river at Henley, Maidenhead, Molesey, etc. They are fitted up inside with bathrooms and dressing-rooms, and comfortable lounges and reading-rooms, while their flat tops are utilised by the rowing men for sitting at ease and chatting to their friends. Each college has its own “barge,” and it is a point of honour to make it and keep it a credit to the college. The long string of “barges” form a very beautiful picture, particularly when the river is quiet, and the finely decorated vessels with their background of green trees are reflected in the smooth waters. May is the great time for the River at Oxford, for then are held the races of the senior “crews” or “eights.” Then for a week the place, both shore and stream, is gay with pretty dresses and merry laughter, for mothers and sisters, cousins and friends, flock to Oxford in their hundreds to see the fun. But to the rowing man it is a time of hard work—with more in prospect if he is lucky; for, just as the “eights” of this week have been selected from the crews of the February “torpids” or junior races, so from those doing well during “eights week” may be chosen the University crew—the “blues.”