It was far into the evening before the party separated. The boys lingered after the rest were gone, declaring they had eaten so much it was impossible for them to row over at present. They lay by the fire listening to the dip of Ben’s oars, and the rumble of Uncle Isaac’s cart, till both died away in the distance.
“What say for going in swimming?” asked John.
“It’s too cold,” replied Fred; “who ever heard of anybody going in swimming in the night, at this time of year?”
“I’ll stump you both to go in.”
“I won’t take a stump from anybody,” said Charlie; “go ahead; I’ll follow.”
John got his clothes off first, and, running in half leg deep, hesitated.
“Is it warm?” asked Fred.
“Splendid!” was the reply, as he soused in.
The others followed.
“Murder!” screamed Fred, the instant he got his head above water; “I should think it was splendid;” and, catching up his clothes, ran to the fire, followed by the others, their teeth chattering in their heads. Standing before the great fire, they put on their clothes, and were soon as warm as ever. They now took the apples that were left, put them in the canoe, and piling a great heap of slabs on the table, set it on fire, and pulled away by the light of it, Charlie steering, and singing to them an old English song about one Parker, who was hung at the yard-arm for mutiny at the ——. It must be borne in mind that slabs were not considered worth anything in those days, and were thrown out of the mill to go adrift, and the shores were full of them, so that boys had plenty of material for bonfires. John had prevailed upon his mother to let Tige go with them, as the widow Hadlock said Sam might come over and stop nights till John came back.