back home-第14部分

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　enough　to　do　it。　Maybe　they　did　it　down　at　the　Copperas　Banks　below　town。　　The　boys　from　across　the　tracks　went　there；　a　race　apart；　whom　we　feared；　and　who　hated　us；　if　the　legend　chalked　up　on　the　fences　〃DAMB　THE　PRODESTANCE；〃　meant　anything。

Under　the　slow　method　of　learning　to　swim　one　had　leisure　to　observe　the　different　fashions　…　dog…fashion　and　cow…fashion；　steamboat…fashion；　and　such。　　The　little　kids　and　beginners　swam　dog…fashion；　which　on　that　account　was　considered　contemptible。　　The　fellow　was　sneered　at　that　screwed　up　his　face　as　if　in　a　cloud　of　suffocating　dust；　and　fought　the　water　with　noise　and　fury；　putting　forth　enough　energy　to　carry　him　a　mile；　and　actually　going　about　two　feet　if　he　were　headed　down　stream。　　Scientific　men　say　that　the　use　of　the　limbs；　first　on　one　side　and　then　on　the　other；　is　instinctive　to　all　creatures　of　the　monkey　tribe。　　That　is　the　way　they　do　in　an　emergency；　since　that　is　the　way　to　scramble　up　among　the　tree　limbs。　　I　know　that　it　is　the　easiest　way　to　swim；　and　the　least　effective。　　When　the　arms　are　extended　together　in　the　breast　stroke；　it　is　as　much　superior　to　dogfashion　as　man　is　superior　to　the　ape。　　I　have　always　thought　that　to　swim　thus　with　steady　and　deliberate　arm　action；　the　water　parting　at　the　chin　and　rising　just　to　the　root　of　the　underlip；　was　the　most　dignified　and　manly　attitude　the　human　being　could　put　himself　in。　　Cow…fashion　was　a　burlesque　of　this；　and　the　swimmer　reared　out　of　water　with　each　stroke；　creating　tidal　waves。　　It　was　thought　to　be　vastly　comic。　Steamboat…fashion　was　where　a　fellow　swam　on　his　back；　keeping　his　body　up　by　a　gentle；　secret　paddling　motion　with　his　hands；　while　with　his　feet　he　lashed　the　water　into　foam；　like　some　river　stern…wheeler。　　If　he　could　cry：　〃Hoo！　hoo！　hoo！〃　in　hoarse　falsetto　to　mimic　the　whistle；　it　was　an　added　charm。

It　was　a　red…headed　boy　from　across　the　tracks　on　his　good　behavior　at　the　swimming…hole　above　the　dam　that　I　first　saw　swim　hand…over…hand；　or　〃sailor…fashion〃　as　we　called　it；　rightly　or　wrongly；　I　know　not。　　I　can　hear　now　the　crisp；　staccato　little　smack　his　hand　gave　the　water　as　he　reached　forward。

It　has　ever　since　been　my　envy　and　despair。　　It　is　so　knowing；　so　〃sporty。〃　　I　class　it　with　being　able　to　wear　a　pink…barred　shirt　front　with　a　diamond…cluster　pin　in　it；　with　having　my　clothes　so　nobby　and　stylish　that　one　thread　more　of　modishness　would　be　beyond　the　human　power　to　endure；　with　being　genuinely　fond　of　horseracing；　with　being　a　first…class　poker　player；　I　mean　a　really　first…class　one；　with　being　able　to　swallow　a　drink　of　whisky　as　if　I　liked　it　instead　of　having　to　choke　it　down　with　a　shudder；　with　knowing　truly　great　men　like　Fitzsimmons；　or　whoever　it　is　that　is　great　now；　so　as　to　be　able　to　slap　him　on　the　back　and　say：　〃Why；　hello！　　Bob；　old　boy；　how　are　you？〃　with　being　delighted　with　the　company　of　actors；　instead　of　finding　them　as　thin　as　tissue…paper　…　what　wouldn't　I　give　if　I　could　be　like　that？　　My　life　has　been　a　sad　one。　　But　I　might　find　some　comfort　in　it　yet　if　I　coin　only　get　that　natty　little　spat　on　the　water　when　I　lunge　forward　swimming　overhand。

We　used　to　think　the　Old　Swimming…hole　was　a　bully　place；　but　I　know　better　now。　　The　sycamore　leaned　well　out　over　the　water；　and　there　was　a　trapeze　on　the　branch　that　grew　parallel　with　the　shore；　but　the　water　near　it　was　never　deep　enough　to　dive　into。　　And　that　is　another　occasion　of　humiliation。　　I　can't　dive　worth　a　cent。　When　I　go　down　to　the　slip　behind　Fulton　Market　…　they　sell　fish　at　Fulton　Market；　just　follow　your　nose　and　you　can't　miss　it　…　and　see　the　rows　of　little　white　monkeys　doing　nothing　but　diving；　I　realize　that　the　Old　Swimming…hole　with　all　its　beauties；　its　green　leafiness；　its　clean；　long　grass　to　lie　upon　while　drying　in　the　sun；　or　to　pull　out　and　bite　off　the　tender；　chrome…yellow　ends；　was　but　a　provincial；　country…fake　affair。　　There　were　no　watermelon　rinds　there；　no　broken　berry…baskets；　no　orange　peel；　no　nothing。　All　the　fish　in　it　were　just　common　live　ones。　　And　there　was　no　diving。　　But　at　the　real；　proper　city　swimming…place　all　the　little　white　monkeys　can　dive。　　Each　is　gibbering　and　shrieking：　〃Hey；　Chim…meel　Chimmee！　　Hey；　Chim…mee！　　Chimmee！　　Hey；　CHIM…MEEEE！　How'ss　t　'iss？〃　crossing　himself　and　tipping　over　head　first；　coming　up　so　as　to　〃lay　his　hair；〃　giving　a　shaking　snort　to　clear　his　nose　and　mouth　of　water；　regaining　the　ladder　with　three　overhand　strokes　（every　one　of　them　with　that　natty　little　spat　that　I　can't　get）；　climbing　up　to　the　string…piece　and　running　for　Chimmy；　red…eyed；　shivering；　and　dripping；　to　ask：　〃How　wass　Cat？〃　And　I　can't　dive　for　a　cent　…　that　is；　I　can't　dive　from　a　great　elevation。　　I　set　my　teeth　and　vow　I　just　will　dive　from　ten　feet　above　the　water；　and　every　time　it　gets　down　to　a　poor；　picayune　dive　off　the　lowest　round　of　the　ladder。　　I　blame　my　early　education　for　it。　　I　was　taught　to　be　careful　about　pitching　myself　head　foremost　on　rocks　and　broken　bottles。　　I　used　to　think　it　was　a　fine　swimming…hole；　and　that　I　was　having　a　grand；　good　time；　well　worth　any　ordinary　licking；　but　now　that　I　have　traveled　around　and　seen　things；　I　know　that　it　was　a　poor；　provincial；　country…jake　affair　after　all。　　The　first　time　I　swam　across　and　back　without　〃letting　down〃　it　was　certainly　an　immense　place；　but　when　I　went　back　there　a　year　ago　last　summer　…　why；　pshaw！　it　wasn't　anything　at　all。　　It　was　a　dry　summer；　I　admit；　but　not　as　dry　as　all　that。　　A　poor；　pitiful；　provincial；　two…for…a　cent　…　and　yet　。　。　。　and　yet　。　。　。　And　yet　I　sat　there　after　I　had　dressed；　and　mused　upon　the　former　things　…　the　life　that　was；　but　never　could　be　again；　the　Eden　before　whose　gate　was　a　flaming　sword　turning　every　way。　　The　night　was　still　and　moonless。　　The　Milky　Way　slanted　across　the　dark　dome　above。　　It　was　far　from　the　street　lamps　that　greened　among　the　leafy　maples　in　the　silent　streets。　　Gushes　of　air　stirred　the　fluttering　sycamore；　and　whispered　in　the　tall　larches　that　marched　down　the　boundary　line　of　the　Blymire　property。　　The　last　group　of　swimmers　had　turned　into　the　road　from　around　the　clump　of　willows　at　the　end　of　the　pasture。　　The　boy　that　is　always　the　last　one　had　nearly　caught　up　with　the　others；　for　the　velvet　pat　of　his　bare　feet　in　the　deep　dust　was　slowing。　　Their　eager　chatter　softened　and　softened；　until　it　blended　with　the　sounds　of　night　that　verge　on　silence；　the　fall　of　a　leaf；　the　up…springing　of　a　trodden　tuft　of　grass；　the　sleepy　twitter　of　a　dreaming　bird；　and　the　shrilling　of　locusts　patiently　turning　a　creaking　wheel。　　I　heard　the　thump　of　hoofs　and　buggy　wheels　booming　in　the　covered　bridge；　and　a　shudder　came　upon　me　that　was　not　all　the　chill　of　falling　dew。　　Again　I　was　a　little　boy；　standing　in　a　circle　of　my　fellows　and　staring　at　something　pale；　stretched　out　upon　the　ground。　　Ben　Snyder　had　dived　for　It　and　found　It　and　brought　It　up　and　laid　It　on　the　long；　clean　grass。　　Some　one　had　said　we　ought　to　get　a　barrel　and　roll　It　on　the　barrel；　but　there　was　none　there。　　And　then　some　one　said：　〃No；　it　was　against　the　law　to　touch　anything　like　That　before　the　Coroner　came。〃　　So；　though　we　wished　that　something　might　be　done；　we　were　glad　the　law　stepped　in　and　stringently　forbade　us　touching　what　our　flesh　crept　to　think　of　touching。　　No　longer　existed　for　us　the　boy　that　had　the　spy…glass　and　the　〃Swiss　Family　Robinson。〃　Something　cold　and　terrible　had　taken　his　place；　something　that　could　not　see；　and　yet　looked　upward　with　unwinking　eyes。　　The　gloom　deepened；　and　the　dew　began　to　fall。　　We　could　hear　the　boy　that　ran　for　the　doctor　whimpering　a　long　way　off。　　We　wanted　to　go　home；　and　yet　we　dared　not。　　Something　might　get　us。　　And　we　could　not　leave　That　alone　in　the　dark　with　It's　eyes　wide　open。　The　locusts　in　the　grass　turned　and　turned　their　creaking　wheel；　and　the　wind　whispered　in　the　tall　larches。　　We　heard　the　thump　of　hoofs　and　wheels　booming　in　the　covered　bridge。　　It　was　the　doctor；　come　too　late。　　He　put　his　head　down　to　It's　bosom　（the　cold　trickled　down　our　backs）；　and　then　he　said　it　was　too　late。　　If　we　had　known　enough；　he　said；　we　might　have　saved　him。　　We　slunk　away。　It　was　very　lonesome。　　We　kept　together；　and　spoke　low。　　We　stopped　to　hearken　for　a　moment　outside　the　house　where　the　boy　had　lived　that　had　the　spy…glass　and　the　'Swiss　Family　Robinson。〃　　Some　one　had　told　his　mother。　　And　then；　with　a　great　and　terrible　fear　within　us；　we　ran　each　to　his　own　home；　swiftly　and　silently。　　We　knew　now　why　mother　did　not　want　us　to　go　swimming。

But　the　next　afternoon　when　Chuck　Grove　whistled　in　our　back　alley　and　held　up　two　fingers；　I　dropped　the　hoe　and　went　with　him。　　It　was　bright　daylight　then；　and　that　is　different　from　the　night。




THE　FIREMEN'S　TOURNAMENT

It　isn't　only　Christmas　that　comes　but　once　a　year　and　when　it　comes　it　brings　good　cheer；　it's　any　festival　that　is　worth　a　hill　of　beans；　High　School　Commencement；　Fourth　of　July；　Sunday…school　excursion；　Election'　bonfire；　Thanksgiving　Day　（a　nice　day　and　one　whereon　you　can　eat　roast　turkey　till　you　can't　choke　down　another　bite；　and　pumpkin…pie；　and　cranberry　sauce。　　Tell　you！）　…　but　about　the　best　in　the　whole　lot；　and　something　the　city　folks　don't　have；　is　Firemen's　Tournament。　　That　comes　once　a　year；　generally　about　the　time　for　putting　up　tomatoes。

The　first　that　most　of　us　know　about　it　is　when　we　see　the　bills　up；　telling　how　much　excursion　rates　will　be　to　our　town　from　Ostrander　and　Mt。　　Victory；　and　Wapatomica；　and　New　Berlin；　and　Foster's；　and　Caledonia；　and　Mechanicsburg　…　all　the　towns　around　on　both　the　railroads。　　But　before　that　there　was　the　Citizens'　Committee；　and　then　the　Executive　Committee；　and　the　Finance　Committee；　and　the　Committee　on　Press　and　Publicity；　and　Printing　and　Prizes；　and　Decorations　and　Badges；　and　Music；　and　Reception　to　Firemen；　and　Reception　to　Guests　…　as　many　committees　as　there　are　nails　in　the　fence　from　your　house　to　mine。　　And　these　committees　come　around　and　tell　you　that　we　want　to　show　the　folks　that　we've　got　public　spirit　in　our　town；　some　spunk；　some　git…up　to　us。　　We　want　our　town　to　contrast　favorably　with　Caledonia　where　they　had　the　Tournamen