"I'll 'fat monkey' you, letting me drown without so much as putting out your hand," said Pud.
"Letting you drown," said Bill. "You fat porpoise, don't you know that you couldn't sink if you tried?"
"I bet he was just trying to practice walking the greasy pole so he could show us how to do that stunt," said Bob.
"That old tree has all the greasy poles you ever saw beaten to death," said Pud with disgust.
"Perhaps that was a slippery elm tree," said Bill. "What do you say, Pud? Did you taste it?"
"No, I didn't taste it. I'll give you both a taste if you don't stop standing there laughing like two old women," said Pud, as he dashed for them. He was evidently up to mischief, so they ran up the trail. Pud soon gave up the chase, and as they came out at a habitant's farm shortly afterwards, he forgot all about his troubles and regained his habitual cheerfulness.
Just before they started down a hill on the outskirts of Escoumains, they all stopped to empty out their shoepacks. All of them had at one time or other gotten into some hole filled with water and all had wet feet. They wrung out their socks and then put on their footgear again.
"Holy smoke," said Bill, "if mother saw me do that little stunt she would call me back home at once."
"What's that?" asked Mr. Waterman, who had thought nothing of the matter.
"Why, wringing out my socks and then putting them on again," said Bill. "Mother would be sure that that would mean pneumonia at least."