(g) When a great current moves across a river to a point where it seems very unlikely to have an exit, you may be certain that some unusual conformation of the banks or of the river bed will be found there, and caution should be used in approaching the place. This, however, is less necessary when the river is deep. Such cross currents are frequent on the Rhine, but they result merely from unevenness in the bottom far below, and thus we see how the rapids, most dangerous when the river is low, become quite agreeable and safe in high flood time.

(h) The ripple and bubbles among weeds are so totally different from those on free water that their appearance at a distance as a criterion of the depth, current, and direction of the channel must be learned separately. In general, where weeds are under water, and can sway or wave about, there will be water enough to pass—the requisite 3 inches. Backing up stream against long weeds is so troublesome, and so sure to sway the stern round athwart stream, that it is best to force the boat forward instead, even if you have to get out and pull her through.

(i) Paddling through rushes, or flags, or other plants above the water, so as to cut off a corner, is a mistake. Much more "way" is lost then by the friction than might be supposed.

(j) I noticed a very curious boat-bridge across the Rhine below Basle. It seemed to open wide without swinging, and on coming close to it the plan was found to be this. The boats of one half of the bridge were drawn towards the shore, and a stage connecting them ran on wheels along rails inwards from the river, and up an incline on the bank. This system is ingenious, convenient, and philosophical.

(k) Double-hulled boats have often been tried for sailing, but their disadvantages are manifest when the craft is on a large scale, though for toy-boats they answer admirably, and they are now quite fashionable on the Serpentine.

The double boat of the nautical tinman on the Rhine, before described, was a "fond conceit." But there are many double-hulled boats on French rivers, and they have this sole recommendation, that you sit high up, and so can fish without fearing you may "turn the turtle."

When the two hulls are reduced as much as possible, this sort of boat becomes an aquatic "walking machine," for one foot then rests on each hull. Propulsion is obtained either by linking the hulls together with parallel bars moving on studs, while vanes are on each side, so as to act like fins, and to collapse for the alternate forward stroke of each foot bound to its hull—or a square paddle, or a pole works on the water or on the bottom. I have always noticed that the proprietors of such craft are ingenious, obstinate men, proud of their peculiar mode, and very touchy when it is criticised. However, it is usually best, and it is fortunately always easy, to paddle away from them.

(l) The hard exercise of canoe paddling, the open-air motion, constant working of the muscles about the stomach, and free perspiration result in good appetite and pleasant sleepiness at night. But at the end of the voyage the change of diet and cessation of exercise will be apt to cause derangement in the whole system, and especially in the digestion, if the high condition or "training" be not cautiously lowered into the humdrum "constitutionals" of more ordinary life. Still I have found it very agreeable to take a paddle in the Rob Roy up to Hammersmith and back even in December and March.

The last public occasion on which she appeared was on April 17, when the captain offered her aid to the Chief Constructor of the Navy in the effort of the Admiralty to launch the ironclad Northumberland. The offer was eagerly accepted, and the launch was accordingly successful.

The Rob Roy has since departed for a voyage to Norway and Iceland in the schooner yacht Sappho, whose young owner, Mr. W. F. Lawton, has promised "to be kind to her." It is intended that a new Rob Roy should make a voyage next summer with another canoe called the "Robin Hood."