Bubb's face was brimming over with good nature and vitality. Now and again he would jump into the air, cut a caper with his feet, hop to earth as gracefully as a bird, kick a pebble along the roadway, and afterwards lift the pebble in his hand and fling it into the water.
A boy, wearing a pair of English puttees drove two lean cows along the Canal bank and stopped for a moment to speak to an elderly female who was washing her household linen in the cool water. Heedless of the woman's presence, Bowdy and Flanagan undressed and flung themselves into the Canal. The swim from bank to bank was very exhilarating, the coolness warmed the heart and imparted a strange exhilaration to the body. A swim in the cold water always gave the two men the same sensation as good news that is unexpected. Bubb sat on the bank looking at the swimmers.
"Come into the water, my man," they shouted. "It's glorious."
"'Twon't be so glorious when yer get out again," said Bubb.
"'Cos yer clo'es are right top o' a hant-'eap."
"An ant-heap!" ejaculated Flanagan. "Oh, my God!"
"I'm not goin' ter leave my clo'es wiv yours," said Bubb. "I'm goin' ter leave 'em where there's no bloomin' hants."
"We'll get stung to death," Bowdy said. "Bubb, put our clothes along with yours," he called.
"No blurry fear," shouted Bubb, who was undressing further along. "I don't want to get no hants."