so
well, even if had to run to make up for lost time. Spring came on
and the longing increased to enjoy again the piney smell of the newly
arrived rafts, to dive into the clear depths, and revisit his old
friends the "pavers." He took off his shoes and felt the water's
temperature. "In two weeks," he thought with rapture, "In two weeks I
can take a plunge."

In less than two weeks he enjoyed this plunge and finally remembering
that he had to be at home by four o'clock, he scrambled onto a raft and
discovered that his body was covered with some unknown, greasy, tar-like
substance. He could not get it off, and at last asked a raftsman, who
stood by, what it was:

"Why, son," answered the lumberman; "That is petroleum. Don't you know
that they struck oil at the head of the river and great quantities are
pouring into the Alleghany above. It will be a long time before the
river will be as clear as she used to be, and you, my little man, will
have a nice job getting that off your skin."

When Paul reached home, his mother's scrutiny revealed the fact that
something was wrong.

"Have you been swimming again, despite your promise?"

Paul murmured something that might be either "yes" or "no." His hat
removed, showed his hair quite damp further investigation revealed the
fact that his shirt was on wrong side out, while round his neck was a
well defined dark line from the oil cakes he struck while swimming
against the stream. His sister Teresa revenged herself that evening for
many a raid on her dolls by scrubbing him into the appearance of a
boiled lobster, so that he would be neat and presentable for school
next day. Even this lesson did not teach him. One warm day while on his
way to school, he lingered so long on the bridge that the tower clock
struck ten, and then he argued that it would be useless to go until the
afternoon session, when he could easily hoodwink his teacher with an
excuse. But the afternoon came, and the wild boy was still in the
water, too deeply interested in the navigation of a plank to realize
that he was playing "hookey" and risking its shady consequences. About
two o'clock he heard loud cries from the St. Clair Street bridge.
Looking up, he saw an excited crowd gathering. The object of their
excitement was a little boy who had waded out on a shallow bar above the
bridge until he had stumbled into deep water and was being carried away
by the strong current. Paul caught o