It was afternoon of Sunday, the day succeeding the St. James game, and Nick and Hugh were going canoeing. A backwater of the river formed a little cove in the southwest corner of the playing field and save when the water was very high there was a slope of coarse sand and gravel there which was facetiously called the Beach, just as the cove was known as the Pool. It provided a fairly good place for swimming, since the water was not deep, although the mud was somewhat of a drawback; and it made a convenient haven for canoes. They were drawn up on the grass under the well-nigh leafless branches of a grove of maple and ash trees, a flotilla of some twenty brightly hued craft. Nick’s canoe, which he owned in partnership with Bert, was easily located, for it was the only white one in the lot. It had a neat stripe of gold along its side and the name in gilt letters at the bow: _Omeomi_. Hugh had been fooled by that name, to Nick’s delight, pronouncing it Om-e-om-e, believing the statement that it was an Indian word. Nick, however, pronounced it “O me! O my!” Hugh took a paddle and seated himself in the bow and Nick pushed off and guided the gleaming craft out of the cove and around a point of alders to the river. There he headed up stream, against a barely perceptible current. “Now dig if you like,” he called, and Hugh dipped his paddle very awkwardly and tried his best to perform as he had seen Nick and others perform. But this was his first attempt and he wasn’t very successful. Nick let him toil for several minutes. Then: “’Ighness,” he said, “if you want to learn to paddle you’ll have to start right. Put your left hand further down and―――― Hold on! Don’t lean over like that or we’ll have to walk home! Put your hand just above the end of the blade. That’s it. Now, instead of reaching out close to the bow, start your stroke farther off and sort of pull it in. If you don’t you’re pushing the bow to the right every stroke, don’t you see? Personally, I don’t mind, but the next chap might not like to have to keep straightening out every time. That’s better, but your stroke’s too long, ’Ighness. Shorten it up. Shorter still. That’s more like it. Don’t try to push when the blade’s behind you, because it doesn’t do any good. It rather slows the canoe up, in fact. Forces the stern down and makes it drag more water. Get your drive at the beginning of the stroke, then let up as the paddle passes you and finish the stroke quickly. Try it.”