im, and to her consternation
found that he had escaped. Three minutes later an excited woman stood on
bank of the Alleghany, vigorously waving her hand and hailing the
youthful navigator. The forward end of the one by twelve inch board was
reluctantly headed for shore, and slowly idled in. As the child reached
land, he was grasped by the angry and anxious mother, who beat a merry
tattoo on a tender portion his body with a shingle.

This was not the first time that the young hero had received punishment
for loving the water. His home was within one block of the clear and
swift flowing Alleghany; and whenever he could escape the vigilant eye
of his mother, he was found either on the bank or in the water. One day,
Mrs. Boyton, who had a continual dread of his being drowned, was going
on a visit, and she determined to secure Paul against accident. She took
him upstairs, undressed him and removed his clothes from the room. She
locked the door and went away content.

The day was lovely; the water lay clear and blue in sight and Paul could
hear the delighted cries of the boys as they plunged into its
refreshing depths. The temperature was too strong. Paul searched the
room carefully and to his joy, discovered a pair of his father's
drawers. He got into them and tied the waist-string around his neck.
Then forcing a window, he slid down the convenient lightning rod like
a young monkey, and was found in his usual haunt by his astonished
mother some hours later. From this time on, she gave him more liberty to
follow his natural bent. From early May until late in October, when not
at school, Paul spent most of his time in the water.

In those days, driftwood, consisting of slabs, logs and boards, were
continually floating down the river from the headwaters, where the
great forests were being cut down. When he saw a nice piece of wood,
Paul would cut through the water like a young shark, and swim with it
ahead of him to the shore, where his lumber pile was a goodly sized
one. He kept his mother's cellar well supplied with firewood and sold
the surplus to the neighbors; the proceeds of wich were devoted to
gingerbread and even at that early age to the abominable roll of
tobacco known as the "Pittsburgh Stogie."

Great rafts of lumber were coming down the river daily and a favorite
amusement when he saw one, was to run up the river bank about a quarter
of a mile, swim off and board it. In this way he