What—what do you think of it?”
“Well, if you want my honest opinion,” replied Anthony, “I think it’s too classic, Jack. Seems to me what you want in those kind of songs is a lot of ‘rah, rah, hullabaloo!’ And I don’t believe ‘Hail, Columbia!’ is a good tune; seems too jerky. Course, I’m not an authority, and maybe I’m mistaken. But if I were you I’d try again; get more swing into it. I’ve always thought ‘John Brown’s Body’ was the best tune to set football songs and such things to. Of course, it’s older than the hills and has been used by every college from Maine to Mexico, but that doesn’t matter if you get some good words. I’d forget about the rhymes at first; just find some lines that’ll swing along, you know; kind of sing themselves; afterward, you can go back and tuck a rhyme in here and there. Try it.”
“I guess I will. I wasn’t just satisfied with that ‘Hail, Columbia!’ one, but I didn’t know what ailed it. I thought maybe it was because I couldn’t find a rhyme for ‘high.’ There was ‘die,’ but I’d used that in the last line, you see.”
“I see.” Anthony knocked the ashes from his pipe and stretched himself. “Guess I’ll have to go up and do some studying,” he said.
“Wait a minute,” Jack pleaded. “There’s another thing I wanted to ask about. Is it hard to learn to swim?”
“Never learned, Jack, and can’t say from experience. But from what I’ve seen I’d say it was blamed hard.”
“Never learned! But I thought——”
“It was like this with me. When I was about knee high to a grasshopper I went in wading and saw my daddy out in a dory about fifty feet from shore. So I went out to him. They say I didn’t have much breath left when they pulled me in; I don’t remember. I guess I swam, though; if I didn’t I don’t know how I got there. Anyhow, after that I knew how all right.”
“Just imagine,” mused Jack. “I know I couldn’t do that, but I do want to learn. Do you think I could?”