When You Were a Boy

by Edwin L. Sabin

And Snoopie at the moment opportunely sauntering near, Billy hailed him:

“Snoopie! Ain’t you been in swimmin’ already?”

Snoopie grandly nodded, and nonchalantly spat betwixt two front upper teeth.

“Course I have,” he answered. “Ain’t you kids been in yet? Aw, gee!”

“Was it warm?” you inquired humbly.

“Jus’ right. Makes you feel fine. We go in every day, about—me an’ Spunk Carey.”

That settled it. The swimming season had opened.

During the afternoon at school you and Hen and Billy were in an ecstatic tremor. From behind his geography Billy darted into sight two fingers, you responded, daringly, with two fingers, and Hen telegraphed quick accord with like two fingers—the mysterious “V” sign of the Free Masonry of swimmers.

Teacher saw, and frowned; but “teacher,” by reason of her limitations of sex, could not appreciate what you were having, and what she was missing.

With a proud consciousness, you and Hen and Billy foregathered after school and started creekward.