"Get along with you! no," cried Day.
I hesitated, for the water looked very dreadful, and in spite of the
burning sunshine it seemed cold. I felt so helpless too, and would
gladly have run back to my clothes and dressed, instead of standing on
the brink of the river.
"In with you," shouted Day, backing away from the bank, and the other
two boys stood a little way off, with the water up to their chests,
grinning and jeering.
"He daren't."
"He's afraid."
"I say, don't you jump in: you'll get wet."
"I say, young 'un, don't. You learn to swim in the washing-tub in warm
water."
"Don't you take any notice of them," cried Day. "You jump in. Join
your hands above your head and go in with a regular good leap. They
can't."
I felt desperate. The water seemed to drive me back, but all the time
the jeers of the boys pricked and stirred me on, and at last, obeying
Day to the letter, I placed my hands above my head, diver fashion, and
took the plunge down into the darkness of the chilly water, which seemed
to roar and thunder in my ears, and then, before I knew where I was, I
found myself standing up, spitting, half blind, with a curious burning
sensation in my nostrils, and a horrible catching of the breath.
"Hooray!" shouted Day. "You've beat them hollow. Now you're out of
your misery and can show them. I bet a penny you learn to swim before
they can."
This was encouraging, and I began to feel a warm glow of satisfaction in
my veins.
"Catch hold of my hand," cried Day.
"No, no," I cried excitedly. "You'll take me where it's deep."
"Get out!" he said. "I shouldn't be such a fool. There, go on then by
yourself. Don't go where it's more than up to your chin."
"Oh, no!" I said, stooping and rising, and letting the water, as it ran
swiftly, send a curious cold thrill all over me. And then, as I began
cautiously to wade about, panting, and with my breath coming in an
irregular manner, there was a very pleasurable sensation in it all.
First I began to notice how firm and close and heavy the water felt, and
how it pressed against me. Then I began to think of how hard it was to
walk, the water keeping me back; and directly after, as I stepped
suddenly in a soft place all mud, which seemed to ooze up between my
toes, the water came to my shoulders, and I felt as if I were being
lifted from my feet.
"I say how do you like it?" cried Day, who was swimming a few yards
away.
"I don't know," I panted. "I think I like it."