Evening star., 1916-08-12

minister of the gospel. used to make
certain signs at me which I just knew
| l couldn't resist: and that afternoon
would find US fat on our backs in the
| water CT the Yantacaw. Peggy was
/ one of the greatest swimmers after 4
fashion that I ever saw. True 1t is
that he wasn't a seal. nor did he adorn
himself with Il rubber cap, nor yet a
bathing suit. He used, to go over to
his own private spot in the shade of
the rambly. gray. old icehouse. take off
his clothing in about two jiffeys and
Iun like white streak, long and thin
and seventeen years cid. and dive into
the bosom of the Yantacaw with a
splash which sent the water half over
the surface of the pond.
l used to follow him by about two
seconds. Then we would swim labori-
ously with great strokes out into the
middle. That was the only spot where
we couldn't touch bottom. Everywhere
else we could let our toes drift into
the muddy ooze. Talk about your
concrete pools. II you want to
know what real swimming is, just
pick out country mill pond some
Where, with mud all over the bot
tom, and let your toes work m that
ooze for while. / can just feel 1t
now, all soft and black and willing to
work with you, all over your toes and
all through them and all UP your legs.
That mud has been there for years, full
OF typhoid germs and everything else
but perfectly delectabIe. When we
wanted to be really comical. we would
dive into place where we would be
sure to run our heads about a foot
into the muck. and then come rushing
to the surface like water demons
streaked with mud
All around the edges of the Yanta-
cav mosquitoes thrived. frogs held
nigh carnival and friendly little sunfish
and perch basked in the warmer shall
lows Kids with pair of pants and ia
shirt and nothing else used to come
there with fishing poles large enough
to hold shark. and fish for those
perch, and sometimes the catch would
run as high as twelve fish, every one
of which would be four inches long
Every summer they would build a raft,
and before fall the raft would collapse
on its attempted journey around the
drowned Once Peggy McGrew rescued
ten-year-old boy. who was about to
sink in three feet of muddy water. and
the Passaic daily prints heralded the
fact in ffrst-page headlines.
They didn't care about form in swim
ming. they didn't care whether they
splashed when they dived. They just
had fun. There was a boy we all called
without fit bov it isn't a regular
swimming hole Fats used to take a
short run and jump into the air and
come down ker-thump into the bosom
Oh the outraged IantacaW ana make
waves comparable only with the At
lantic after a stormy week Fats could
swim simply because ne couldn't stink
At least, that was the indisputsb Bile the
cory. All hands said so. and Fats used
to say lie never could remember when
he learned to swim, and that he was
supposed to have struck out for the
farther shore when his mother first i1-
mersed him in nursery tub.
There were ee1s and water snakes In
the Yantacaw, and a lot of other things,
II suppose. which mothers NOWADAYS
would think worse than sharks. Alsp,
one look at the Yantacaw would spoS-
sibly have ELECTED from a health in
spector for the government the infoF-
nation that the Yantacaw ranked with
disease and death. Perhaps so. We
never found it. Perhaps we fiirted with
millions of little germs at every mouth
full of the Yantacaw water that we
took in while swimming under the sur
face Or when being ducked. All I know
is that there was a most restful feeling
experienced after a long afternoon In
the oozey old Yantacav.
That's why I always look with scorn
upon those concrete swimming pools. i
hate upholstered sports. anyhow