Hurrah! hurrah! Their bow is a foot beyond our stern.
“Hi! hi! hi! Yah! yah! Hurrah! hurrah! My young—”
Splash!!!
Clump had pitched in sure enough, head first. But there was no stop to our engines. Our tutors were four feet behind; but they were working with a last hope and mad effort.
“One more, boys!”
Cr–u–a–nk! we touched the spar, slid over its roundness as it sunk beneath our keel, and were on the soft beach—Victors!
We were crazy with joy, and completely used up. The boys jumped from the boat and threw themselves, laughing hysterically, on the sand.
Our tutors only said, in tones of mingled chagrin and exhaustion, “Boys, we are beaten, well and fairly;” and they pushed off again to pick up Clump.
I do not know any successes or honours of after-life sweeter or more satisfying than that boat victory.
Until bedtime, we remained just tired and happy enough to sit quietly and talk over the events of the afternoon.