Ned, who had been fuming all the spring because his father had refused to let him go in until the water was warmer, and thus had deprived him of the glory of being among the first, received the tidings with rejoicing. Surely, June was not too early for bathing!
Bob was more callous about the news. You see, already he had indulged in a number of plunges, not to speak of the dive from the barn window; therefore his enthusiasm had cooled.
“Can’t I go swimming now, father?” begged Ned, immediately upon hearing the reports. “All the fellows have been in and they say the water is just as warm as milk! If you’d only stick your hand in it you’d see, yourself.”
“I haven’t had much of a chance to ‘stick my hand in it,’ yet, considering that my arm isn’t four blocks long—and that is the nearest I have been to the river, lately,” replied Mr. Miller, laughing. “But if ‘all the fellows’ say so, it must be true.”
“Hal’s father has let him go,” argued Ned, eagerly.
“I’ve nothing to do with Mr. Lucas’s notions—nor have they anything to do with me, Ned,” responded Mr. Miller. “The Miller affairs give me all that I can attend to. However, I guess, if you’ll be careful and not stay in too long, you can go ahead.”
“And don’t get in where it’s deep,” cautioned Mrs. Miller.
“Oh, pshaw, mother!” replied Ned. “Six feet is as bad as a mile—and it’s easier swimming where it’s real deep, too.”
“Well, I hate to have you go,” said his mother, stroking his hair. “You promise to be very careful, won’t you, and not bathe so often or stay in so long that it makes you weak, or——”
“Yes, mother. Don’t you be afraid,” he answered, giving her a hearty hug.