English fiction -- 20th century; Humorous stories, English; Short stories, English
Archie being no gentleman, he walked and I hobbled to the edge, and
there we sat down while he took off his shoes.
"I should like to take this last opportunity," I said, "of telling
you that up till now I haven't enjoyed this early morning bathe one
little bit. I suppose there will be a notable moment when the
ecstasy actually begins, but at present I can't see it coming at
all. The only thing I look forward to with any pleasure is the
telling Dahlia and Myra at breakfast what I think of their
cowardice. That and the breakfast itself. Good-bye."
I got up and waded into the surf.
"One last word," I said as I looked back at him. "In my whole career
I shall never know a more absolutely beastly and miserable moment
than this." Then a wave knocked me down, and I saw that I had spoken
too hastily.
The world may be divided into two classes--those who drink when they
swim and those who don't. I am one of the drinkers. For this reason
I prefer river bathing to sea bathing.
"It's about time we came out," I shouted to Archie after the third
pint. "I'm exceeding my allowance."
"Aren't you glad now you came?" he cried from the top of a wave.
"Very," I said a moment later from inside it.
But I really did feel glad ten minutes afterwards as I sat on the
beach in the sun and smoked a cigarette, and threw pebbles lazily
into the sea.
"Holbein, how brave of you!" cried a voice behind me.
"Good-morning. I'm not at all sure that I ought to speak to you."
"Have you really been taking the sea so early," said Myra as she sat
down between us, "or did you rumple each other's hair so as to
deceive me?"
"I have been taking the sea," I confessed. "What you observe out
there now is what I left."
"Oh, but that's what _I_ do. That's why I didn't come
to-day--because I had so much yesterday."
"I'm a three-bottle man. I can go on and on and on. And after all
these years I have the most sensitive palate of any man living. For
instance, I can distinguish between Scarborough and Llandudno quite
easily with my eyes shut. Speaking as an expert, I may say that
there is nothing to beat a small Cromer and seltzer; though some
prefer a Ventnor and dash. Ilfracombe with a slice of lemon is
popular, but hardly appeals to the fastidious."
"Do you know," said Archie, "that you are talking drivel? Nobody
ought to drivel before breakfast. It isn't decent. What does Dahlia
want to do to-day, Myra?"
"Mr Simpson is coming by the one-thirty."
"Good; then we'll have a slack day. The strain of meeting Simpson
will be sufficient for us. I do hope he comes in a yachting
cap--we'll send him back if he doesn't."
"I told him to bring one," said Myra. "I put a P.S. in Dahlia's
letter--please bring your telescope and yachting cap. She thought we
could have a good day's sailing to-morrow, if you'd kindly arrange
about the wind."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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