Nothing would tempt him to go out on the river in such a crazy clam-shell of a boat.

He pretended that he did not expect to behold us alive again, and tried to throw a wet blanket over the expedition.
"Guess you'll have a squally time of it," said Charley, casting off the painter.

"I'll drop in at old Newbury's" (Newbury was the parish undertaker) "and leave word, as I go along!" "Bosh!" muttered Phil Adams, sticking the boat-hook into the string-piece of the wharf, and sending the Dolphin half a dozen yards towards the current.
How calm and lovely the river was! Not a ripple stirred on the glassy surface, broken only by the sharp cutwater of our tiny craft.

The sun, as round and red as an August moon, was by this time peering above the water-line.
The town had drifted behind us, and we were entering among the group of islands.

Sometimes we could almost touch with our boat-hook the shelving banks on either side.