Winnebago and had once conquered her fear on that memorable night beside
the Devil's Punch Bowl that she began to entertain the idea that some
day she, too, might be at home in the water like the others. It was
still a decided ordeal for her to go in; to feel the water flowing over
her feet and to hear it splash against the piles of the dock and gurgle
over the stones along the shore; but she resolutely steeled her nerves
against the sound and the feel of the water, forcing back the terror
that gripped her like an icy hand, and courageously tried to follow the
director's instructions to put her face down under the surface. It was
no use; she could not quite bring herself to do it; the moment the water
struck her chin wild panic seized her and she would straighten up with a
choking cry. She looked with envy at the other novices around her who
fearlessly threw themselves into the water face downward, learning "Dead
Man's Float" inside of ten minutes. She would never be able to do
_that_, she reflected sorrowfully, as she climbed up on the dock before
the period was half over, utterly worn out and discouraged by her
repeated failures to bring her head under water.

Beside her on the dock sat a thin wisp of a girl whose bathing suit was
not even wet.

"Didn't you go in?" asked Oh-Pshaw.

"No," replied the girl in a high, piping voice, and Oh-Pshaw recognized
her as the dweller in Avernus who had come over that first day and asked
them how to make her bed. Carmen Chadwick, they had found out her name
was.

"I'm afraid of the water," continued Carmen. "Mamma never let me go in
at home. She doesn't think it's quite ladylike for girls to swim."