"Pool!" said Old Bob the gardener, contemptuously, "run and get your bathing suit and I'll take you down to the old swimming hole, where I used to swim when I was your age, and where I've been swimming every year since! I think I would enjoy a swim myself, this morning," he added. Buddy Jim forgot all about the weather, but went tearing like a small whirl-wind to Mother, asking where was his bathing suit, and hopping excitedly around until she had found it. He was so enthusiastic that he could hardly wait until Old Bob the gardener had found his own suit and was ready to go. Even Old Dog Sandy waked up and decided to go along, and it was a happy little procession which went, Indian file, along the narrow path which led through the alder bushes to the swimming hole.
Someone who loved boys must have made that swimming hole. The sand had been scooped out from the bed of the brook, and used to make a fine, wide beach; the brook had been made deeper and wider, and a big old tree had been felled in just the right place for a clean, high dive. The alders grew thickly around the beach, and made the nicest dressing room imaginable, and very soon, all three, the old man, the little boy, and the old dog were splashing happily around in the cool water.
Old Bob the gardener taught Buddy Jim many things that he had not learned at the gymnasium; how to tread water like a dog, how to keep his eyes open under water, and how to lie on his back and just float; it was great fun, and they were soon as cool as though jolly old Mr. Sun had not tried to see how hot he could make a day in June.
After awhile Old Bob the gardener said that they had been in the water long enough for one day, and that he had some work to do, and must go back, but Buddy Jim said that he was going to stay and lie on the beach for a while; it was cooler there.
Old Bob the gardener said, all right, if he wouldn't go in the water alone, because he couldn't yet swim well enough to go in alone, and Buddy Jim promised that he would not. Old Bob knew that when Buddy said he would do a thing, that it was just as good as done, because he was very careful to always keep his word. Mother said that a real man always did. And Buddy Jim meant to be a real man.
It was so cool and comfy there under the alder bushes that Buddy Jim fell fast asleep, and then he was aware of voices, and that Old Dog Sandy was grumbling and complaining that "a fellow never could get forty winks, but that someone had to chatter and wake him up."
"Lie down, Sandy," whispered Buddy Jim, "and keep quiet." The old dog obeyed, though he did not want to, and Buddy Jim crawled quietly over towards the voices and lay very still until they began again.
"I saw it first," said a queer lispy little voice. It was not a very good-natured sounding voice either.
"Why the very idea," said a calm, quiet, little voice, "how can you say so, when we were already here when you arrived? We saw it first, and we intend to keep it; isn't that so, Brother?"
"Of course," answered another little voice, "that's what we intend to do. You go and find another nest if you are hungry."