The Girl on the BoatWodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
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The Girl on the Boat
Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
Children of the rich -- Fiction; Golf stories; Humorous stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
He was still busy with this congenial task when a tremendous splash at
his side sent him under again: and, rising for a second time, he
observed with not a little chagrin that he had been joined by a young
man in a blue flannel suit with an invisible stripe.
“Svensk!” exclaimed Mr. Swenson, or whatever it is that natives of
Sweden exclaim in moments of justifiable annoyance. He resented the
advent of this newcomer. He had been getting along fine and had had the
situation well in hand. To him Sam Marlowe represented Competition, and
Mr. Swenson desired no competitors in his treasure-seeking enterprise.
He travels, thought Mr. Swenson, the fastest who travels alone.
Sam Marlowe had a touch of the philosopher in him. He had the ability
to adapt himself to circumstances. It had been no part of his plans to
come whizzing down off the rail into this singularly soup-like water
which tasted in equal parts of oil and dead rats; but, now that he was
here he was prepared to make the best of the situation. Swimming, it
happened, was one of the things he did best, and somewhere among his
belongings at home was a tarnished pewter cup which he had won at
school in the “Saving Life” competition. He knew exactly what to do.
You get behind the victim and grab him firmly under his arms, and then
you start swimming on your back. A moment later, the astonished Mr.
Swenson who, being practically amphibious, had not anticipated that
anyone would have the cool impertinence to try to save him from
drowning, found himself seized from behind and towed vigorously away
from a ten-dollar bill which he had almost succeeded in grasping. The
spiritual agony caused by this assault rendered him mercifully dumb;
though, even had he contrived to utter the rich Swedish oaths which
occurred to him, his remarks could scarcely have been heard, for the
crowd on the dock was cheering as one man. They had often paid good
money to see far less gripping sights in the movies. They roared
applause. The liner, meanwhile, continued to move stodgily out into
mid-river.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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