The Birmingham age-herald., 1919-06-16
MEN, WOMEN
 AND THINGS


 Chewalla creek and Sherry's mill pond played big part i. my life.
 I am sorry for boys who have no place in which to swim. am glad that the great cities are paying more attention to make it possible for the people to indulge in aquatic sports and I am de- lighted that we have such outlets as West Lake and East Lake and wading pool at Avondale.
 | Now, the pools at the Athletic club, the Y. M. C. A. and the Y. w. C. A. are of course sources of pleasure, but only to a limited number; and then to get the full joy out of swimming one needs 10 be out in the open air, and even the city substitutes for the "ole swimmin hole'
 |
 We used to call the boys that lived on the bluff at Eufaula river rats,' but while I lived about in .he center of the town, if spending the greater portion Of the summer afternoons in the CAatta- hoochie entitled one to the nickname, | deserved it for it was a rare day in which I missed a dip, for I learned to swim in my early boyhood.
 Even to this day when get to Ho- boken. which is just across Chewalla creek towards Glennville, I begin to watch out for sherry's pond although it has been drained for I know I will soon get glimpse of the old wash hole down below the railroad trestle; but with the cutting of the timber the stream which | used to supply us with a swimming place is now but hranch,> but it never fails l foot days.
 | I ask some of you business men, on ttis hot afternoon, while you are pers- piring at your desk in spite of the whzz of your electric fan, what would you give to be a hs.$ again for awhile Do you know of anything which your for tune can buy you equal to the thrift you used to get when the gang came along, and whistled for you to join them | in a race to the swimmin hole. l You set yourself some goal in business for which you drove for years, in the | belief that when you reached it you get great satisfaction. Perhaps it was to be recognized as great lawyer, doctor, preacher, merchant, banker manufactur- CT or what not. At last the time came when you had reached the zenith of your ambition. but somehow the zest had gone out of your life, and your success but dead sea fruit
 | And then you have sat idly lingering your papers while you gazed into space with unseeing eyes for anything around you but seeing vividly everything in the chapters of your boyhood. The call of the movies and the theaters failed to stir your blood to enthusiasm. The lure of cities had palled on your appetite, and even your crones in the club seem- ed as strangers. Your whole being cried out to be boy again
 l The saddest thing that can come to any man is to lose the spirit of the boy It. is the eternal youth in some men which keep them fresh after their asso- ciates have withered on the stalk. Not lcng ago I accidentally sat at breakfast table in a country hotel with gray haired cid man who just radiated hap piness. It was good just to be near him for he seemed so alive and interested.
 He was talking to another man and was not drawn in the conversation or did I get any clue as to his business down He went his way flores bit, as did mine but I saw him stopping all kinds of people on the street with q cheery greeting, I ran across him in store and bank. and always he was keen ly alert. His manners were not those of the professional politician. He was 1 just naturally friendly and buoyant in spite of hia years. He will never grow cid.
 It is a great thing to be able to he boy-like and awake each morning and look on the day ahead as one to be filled with great adventures I recall a friend of mine an editor of a paper with a statewide circulation. l happened to ride with him from Montgomery to Birmingham and if it had been his first trip on a train he could not have been more wide awake. He sat next the win dow and just bVbbled over with delight as the engine hurried along.
 But back to the river. I can hear the boys coming and the sound of their voices ring in my ears, as the challenge floats cut on the breeze, issued by some valorous lad, "Tl be first man in" The race is on and for a mile we speed. The bridge is reached and then the wharf is behind and the place where the creek flows into the river is in sight. anG each one is -unbuttoning his waist. and soon the banks are reached and in dives a little Drowned figure.
 Yes, l am thinking about those old days. and my how I wish I could find something which would put the pep in me that I had in those days. I en- joy life, but it is so written that we can be boys only once. I mean in the sense of joyousness, for alas there does come to many a second childhood. but over this draw the veil of charity.
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