"dog-fashion" years and years after the others had become
post-graduates in aquatic lore and could "tread water," "swim
sailor-fashion," and "lay" their hair. Mrs. Jones permitted her son
to go swimming occasionally, but she always exacted from him a solemn
promise not to go into the deep water. And Harold, who was a good
little boy, made it a point not to "let down" when he was beyond the
"step-off." So of course he could not know how deep it was; although
the bad little boys who "brought up bottom" had told him that it was
twelve feet deep.

One hot June afternoon Mealy stood looking at a druggist's display
window, gazing idly at the pills, absently picking out the various
kinds which he had taken. He had just come from his mother with
the expressed injunction not to go near the river. His eyes roamed
listlessly from the pills to the pain-killer, and; turning wearily
away, he saw Piggy and Old Abe and Jimmy Sears. The three boys were
scuffling for, the possession of a piece of rope. Pausing a moment in
front of the grocery store, they beckoned for Mealy. The lad joined
the group. Some one said,--

"Come on, Mealy, and go swimmin'."

"Aw, Mealy can't go," put in Jimmy; "his ma won't let him."

"Yes, I kin, _too_, if I want to," replied Mealy, stoutly--but, alas!
guiltily.

"Then come on," said Piggy Pennington. "You don't dast. My ma don't
care how often I go in--only in dog days."