he was a sad make-believe. The guilt of the deed he was
doing, oppressed him. He wondered how he could go into crime so
stolidly. Inwardly he quaked as he recalled the stories he had read of
boys who had drowned while disobeying their parents. His uneasiness
was increased by the ever-present sense that he could not cope with
the other boys at their sports. He let them jostle him, and often
would run, after his self-respect would goad him to jostle back. Mealy
was glad when the group came to the deep shade of the woods and walked
slowly.

It was three o'clock when the boys reached the swimming-hole. There
the great elm-tree, with its ladder of exposed roots, stretched over
the water. Piggy Pennington, stripped to the skin, ran whooping down
the sloping bank, splashed over the gravel at the water's edge, and
plunged into the deepest water. Old Abe followed cautiously, bathing
his temples and his wrists before sousing all over. Jimmy Sears threw
his shirt high up on the bank as he stood ankle-deep in the stream.
Piggy's exhilaration having worn off by this time, he picked up a
mussel-shell and threw it at Jimmy's feet. The water dashed wide of
its mark and sprinkled Mealy, who was sitting on a log, taking off his
shoes.

"Here, Piggy, you quit that," said Mealy.

Jimmy said nothing. He sprang into the air head foremost toward Piggy,
who dived from sight. His pursuer saw the direction Piggy took and
followed him. The boys were a few feet apart when Jimmy came to the
surface, puffing and spouting and shaking the water from his eyes and
hair. He hesitated in his pursuit. Piggy observed the hesitation, and
with a quick overhand movement shot a stinging stream of water from
the ball of his hand into his antagonist's face. Then Piggy turned
on his side and swam swiftly to shallow water, where he stood and
splashed his victim, who was lumbering toward shore with his eyes
shut, panting loudly. With every splash Piggy said, "How's that, Jim?"
or "Take a bite o' this," or "Want a drink?" When Jimmy got where he
could walk on the creek bottom, he made a feint of fighting back,
but he soon ceased, and stood by, gasping for breath, before saying,
"Let's quit."

Then followed the fun of ducking, the scuffling and the capers of the
young human animals at play--at play even as gods in the elder days.
Mealy saw it all through envious eyes and with a pricking conscience,
as he doggedly fumbled the myriad buttons which his mother had