A very charming feature of English country life is the pleasure one can derive from boating on the small rivers. Our American watercourses are generally too wide or too turbulent to become such a domestic pet as we all know the river Thames to be. To one who has not seen Boulter's Lock on a bright Sunday, or who has never witnessed a Henley Regatta, that most brilliant of all athletic spectacles, it would be difficult to explain how thoroughly the Englishman enjoys and how constantly he uses the opportunity which Father Thames affords for a short outing. Nor is the Thames the only stream thus available. Small watercourses of the same sort are to be found all over the country, and afford delightful trips for those who are willing to travel in so leisurely a fashion. The writer remembers with the keenest pleasure certain canoe trips, one of three days from Bedford to Ely on the Ouse, another on the Stour, from Sudbury to Manningtree, lasting two days, and a third of similar duration from Petworth down the Rother into the Arun at Pullborough and thence to Arundel. All the preparation necessary is to buy your canoe a third-class ticket, put it into the luggage van at the railway station, and set out for the point at which you wish to begin. Jerome K. Jerome has immortalised a similar trip taken down the Thames from Oxford to London. One of the most charming of all English river journeys is that down the Wye. If one wishes to take a long trip, the start can be made at Hay, thirty-four miles above Hereford, or perhaps better at Whitney, twenty-eight miles above. The next stretch is from Hereford to Ross, twenty-seven miles, and, if desired, this can be lengthened by continuing on down to Monmouth, Tintern and Chepstow. The charming bits of scenery that unfold themselves as this little river lazily winds down the Welsh Marches are most varied and delightful. It must, however, be admitted that it is only the middle section of this agreeable trip that properly concerns one engaged in glass-hunting. We should, therefore, content ourselves with the stretch from Hereford to Ross, twenty-seven miles, if, indeed, we have the time to devote to this slow method of travelling. Over by the river end of the peaceful town of Hereford is the lovely green Close which lies about the sturdy reddish brown cathedral. Few churches, even those of great size, give such a square and solid impression as results here from the combination of the ruddy tones of the building material and the early type of its architecture. The defacing effects of an earlier restoration are being rectified by the erection of a new west front, now almost completed. The massive Norman columns that support the nave within, carry out in their grand simplicity the sturdy promise of the exterior. Every division of the church seems spacious, the ample transepts, wide choir aisles, and large Lady chapel, completing the effect begun by the nave and choir. Indeed,