“These abrupt changes of vegetation — this little spongeous tract of water plants, and on either side of it all the growths are tough or brittle — heather, bracken, hurts, pines. Very charming, very charming.

“Mr. Beebe, aren't you bathing?” called Freddy, as he stripped himself.

Mr. Beebe thought he was not.

“Water's wonderful!” cried Freddy, prancing in.

“Water's water,” murmured George. Wetting his hair first — a sure sign of apathy — he followed Freddy into the divine, as indifferent as if he were a statue and the pond a pail of soapsuds. It was necessary to use his muscles. It was necessary to keep clean. Mr. Beebe watched them, and watched the seeds