It was a remnant indeed, and they kept losing it. The woods were shady, it was true, but the shade was hot and close; cat-claw scratched at them, and gnats kept trying to get into their eyes. Mr. Payton, in the lead, fought his way through hazel bushes. "It's clearing ahead," he called encouragingly, and in a moment they heard him give an exclamation of pleasure. "Well, by Jove. Just look at that! A sight for sore eyes, Philosophers, and the same, _exactly_ the same, as it was more than sixty years ago!" The quarry held deep water in its cup: a little lake that lay still as a jewel, clear as a jewel, without a breath of air to wrinkle its surface. On this scorching noonday it was indeed a sight for sore eyes. "Suave," breathed Julian. "What are we waiting for!" demanded Tom, pulling off his shirt. He and the other boys scrambled into the bushes to put on their suits, and Lucy and Portia found their own little dressing room behind a rock. Soon they were in the striped bathing suits. Lucy giggled at the sight of Portia, and Portia giggled at the sight of Lucy. The tight-fitting trousers reached well below their knees; the tight-fitting tunics hugged their ribs and had high necks and little shoulder sleeves. Lucy's stripes were black and yellow. "You look like a big fat hornet," Portia said. _Her_ stripes were red, white, and blue. "You look like a skinny little patriotic barber pole," Lucy retorted. The boys looked just as odd as they did, and so did Mr. Payton, whose suit, also vividly striped, was a relic of the same era. Good-natured jeers and insults filled the air. So did an alien smell of moth balls. But not for long. Soon the children were popping into the water, happy as frogs. It was cold! Cold and delicious, and so clear that they could see the carpet of drowned leaves lying far below them on the bottom. At first they just swam and soaked and luxuriated. The midday sun blazed down on them. Mr. Payton swam the breast stroke holding his beard well out of the water and smiling benignly. "Ah, by Jupiter, ah, by Jove," he purred contentedly. "Let's stay here all day long, Uncle Pin, can we? Let's stay until it's suppertime." "Why not, why not? When we're chilled, we'll lie on the rocks and bake ourselves dry, and then we'll swim again." After a while Julian, who wanted to show off his diving, managed to find a plank and some boulders, and contrived a springboard. For the first few dives his skill was greatly admired, but then everybody else wanted a turn, even Tom Parks, who slapped the water resoundingly with his stomach every time. The rock walls of the quarry echoed with squabbles and laughter and splashing and shouts. It echoed often with the words: "Look at me! Watch this! Hey, you guys, watch _me_!"