"Is it worth it?" asked the other, Michelangelesque on the
flooded margin.
The bank broke away, and he fell into the pool before he had
weighed the question properly.
"Hee-poof--I've swallowed a pollywog, Mr. Beebe, water's
wonderful, water's simply ripping."
"Water's not so bad," said George, reappearing from his plunge,
and sputtering at the sun.
"Water's wonderful. Mr. Beebe, do."
"Apooshoo, kouf."
Mr. Beebe, who was hot, and who always acquiesced where possible,
looked around him. He could detect no parishioners except the
pine-trees, rising up steeply on all sides, and gesturing to each
other against the blue. How glorious it was! The world of
motor-cars and rural Deans receded inimitably. Water, sky,
evergreens, a wind--these things not even the seasons can touch,
and surely they lie beyond the intrusion of man?
"I may as well wash too"; and soon his garments made a third
little pile on the sward, and he too asserted the wonder of the
water.
It was ordinary water, nor was there very much of it, and, as
Freddy said, it reminded one of swimming in a salad.
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