They turned over and stared into the shining sky. “Now tell us a story Maida!” Rosie said. Maida began obediently. “Once upon a time,” she said to the accompaniment of five pairs of hands beating the water, “there lived a little girl by the name of Rosie. She was probably the naughtiest little girl in the world--” “How about Silva Burle?” Rosie interrupted quickly. “You forget her.” “I’ll tell you what you _do_ forget,” Laura took it up, “poor Dicky standing there all alone on the pier.” “Gee,” was all Arthur said, but he turned and swam back, the rest following him. “I’m going to give you your first swimming lesson now,” Arthur called to the disconsolate figure watching them. Arthur swam in shore. He commanded Dicky to wade into the pond up to his waist. “Now,” he said, putting one hand under Dicky’s chin, “drop down slowly until you’re lying flat on the water. I’ll hold you by the chin and by your bathing suit in the back. Now listen! You’re to do exactly what I tell you. You’ll think I’m going to drop you but I cross my throat I won’t. But you see that you follow my directions.” In a few minutes Dicky was paddling frantically, his eyes almost bulging out of his head, his lips pursed together; his waving arms and kicking feet beating the water almost to a lather. “Breathe the way you always do!” Arthur was shouting. “You poor fish, open your mouth. Suppose you do swallow some water. It won’t hurt you. Haven’t you ever drunk any water in your life? Don’t kick up and down. Make your legs go the way a frog’s does. Don’t go so _fast_. Now I’ll count for you. One! Two! Three! Four! Breathe, you poor prune! How do you expect you’re going to swim without any breath in your body?” The others paddled about, adding their jeers or suggestions; but at times they frequently deserted for a longer swim. Laura displayed a number of water tricks--she was as graceful in her swimming as in her dancing and for a short dash she could go fast. She dove forward, sideways, and backwards. She sat upright in the water. She turned over and over in a somersault. Her strength was nothing to that of Rosie’s however, who seemed never to tire of any physical exercise. “That will be enough for to-day, Dicky,” Arthur decided finally. “Now put on these water wings and practice the way I’ve been telling you. Breathe the way you always do and don’t go too fast. Don’t go into deep water yet. If the wings should fall off or bust--” “Burst!” corrected Rosie promptly. “Collapse,” Arthur substituted with unexpected elegance, “you’ll sink like a stone.” “I’ll stay near the shore,” Dicky promised docilely. “You bet,” he added, “I don’t want to make a hole in the water.” Shaking off his pedagogical duties, Arthur set off alone for the middle of the Pond, swimming with the long powerful strokes which characterized him, his head almost under water.