able to spring from the floor to about twice his own height, gradually
turning over as he rises, so as to come down again head first."

"Why, you need a flea, not a man!" exclaimed the Sub-Warden.

"Pardon me," said the Professor. "This particular kind of bath is
not adapted for a flea. Let us suppose," he continued, folding his
table-napkin into a graceful festoon, "that this represents what is
perhaps the necessity of this Age--the Active Tourist's Portable
Bath. You may describe it briefly, if you like," looking at the
Chancellor, "by the letters A.T.P.B."

The Chancellor, much disconcerted at finding everybody looking at him,
could only murmur, in a shy whisper, "Precisely so!"

"One great advantage of this plunge-bath," continued the Professor,
"is that it requires only half-a-gallon of water--"

"I don't call it a plunge-bath," His Sub-Excellency remarked,
"unless your Active Tourist goes right under!"

"But he does go right under," the old man gently replied. "The A.T.
hangs up the P. B. on a nail--thus. He then empties the water-jug
into it--places the empty jug below the bag--leaps into the
air--descends head-first into the bag--the water rises round him to
the top of the bag--and there you are!" he triumphantly concluded.
"The A.T. is as much under water as if he'd gone a mile or two down
into the Atlantic!"

"And he's drowned, let us say, in about four minutes--"