“‘On thy fair bosom, silver lake,
The wild swan spreads his snowy sail
And round his breast the ripples break,
As down he bears before the gale.’
“You said you would like to sing it on Lake Worth, and I’ve got the music all ready to put down. If it’s ever published, I’ll dedicate it to you. It goes like this,” he added, humming the air to the song as they moved slowly off toward the house.
“What’s that in the water?” called Nancy, after Uncle Peter had interrupted the game and the merry-makers had paused on the bank of the lake to rest and cool off. Mr. Duffy, mopping his face with his pocket handkerchief, had seated himself on the bench occupied by Billie a few moments before.
“It’s a man,” announced several voices. “It’s a man standing in the water.”
“What are you doing, my friend? Cooling your ankles?” asked Mr. Duffy, politely.
Seeing that he was discovered, the man waded in.
“Why, it’s Clarence,” cried Georgiana Paxton.
“Are you quite mad? What will Grandmamma say?” she added in an awed tone of voice.
“Mr. Duffy,” said Clarence in a voice quivering with rage, “I have been insulted by a boatman on your place. I thought I wouldn’t speak of it at first because I didn’t wish to make a scene, but since you have seen me, I must explain.”
“Dear me, dear me, dear me,” exclaimed Mr. Duffy with great concern. “A boatman on my place? Who could it be? I’m sorry, sir, I’m sure. And what did he do, pray?”