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Oh
,
how
they
enjoyed
themselves
,
ridiculing
that
young
man
!
For
five
good
minutes
they
stood
there
,
shouting
ribaldry
at
him
,
deriding
him
,
mocking
him
,
jeering
at
him
.
They
peppered
him
with
stale
jokes
,
they
even
made
a
few
new
ones
and
threw
at
him
.
They
hurled
at
him
all
the
private
family
jokes
belonging
to
our
set
,
and
which
must
have
been
perfectly
unintelligible
to
him
.
And
then
,
unable
to
stand
their
brutal
jibes
any
longer
,
he
turned
round
on
them
,
and
they
saw
his
face
!
I
was
glad
to
notice
that
they
had
sufficient
decency
left
in
them
to
look
very
foolish
.
They
explained
to
him
that
they
had
thought
he
was
some
one
they
knew
.
They
said
they
hoped
he
would
not
deem
them
capable
of
so
insulting
any
one
except
a
personal
friend
of
their
own
.
Of
course
their
having
mistaken
him
for
a
friend
excused
it
.
I
remember
Harris
telling
me
once
of
a
bathing
experience
he
had
at
Boulogne
.
He
was
swimming
about
there
near
the
beach
,
when
he
felt
himself
suddenly
seized
by
the
neck
from
behind
,
and
forcibly
plunged
under
water
.
He
struggled
violently
,
but
whoever
had
got
hold
of
him
seemed
to
be
a
perfect
Hercules
in
strength
,
and
all
his
efforts
to
escape
were
unavailing
.
He
had
given
up
kicking
,
and
was
trying
to
turn
his
thoughts
upon
solemn
things
,
when
his
captor
released
him
.
He
regained
his
feet
,
and
looked
round
for
his
would-be
murderer
.
The
assassin
was
standing
close
by
him
,
laughing
heartily
,
but
the
moment
he
caught
sight
of
Harris
's
face
,
as
it
emerged
from
the
water
,
he
started
back
and
seemed
quite
concerned
.
"
I
really
beg
your
pardon
,
"
he
stammered
confusedly
,
"
but
I
took
you
for
a
friend
of
mine
!
"
Harris
thought
it
was
lucky
for
him
the
man
had
not
mistaken
him
for
a
relation
,
or
he
would
probably
have
been
drowned
outright
.
Sailing
is
a
thing
that
wants
knowledge
and
practice
too
--
though
,
as
a
boy
,
I
did
not
think
so
.
I
had
an
idea
it
came
natural
to
a
body
,
like
rounders
and
touch
.
I
knew
another
boy
who
held
this
view
likewise
,
and
so
,
one
windy
day
,
we
thought
we
would
try
the
sport
.
We
were
stopping
down
at
Yarmouth
,
and
we
decided
we
would
go
for
a
trip
up
the
Yare
.
We
hired
a
sailing
boat
at
the
yard
by
the
bridge
,
and
started
off
.
"
It
's
rather
a
rough
day
,
"
said
the
man
to
us
,
as
we
put
off
:
"
better
take
in
a
reef
and
luff
sharp
when
you
get
round
the
bend
.
"
We
said
we
would
make
a
point
of
it
,
and
left
him
with
a
cheery
"
Good-morning
,
"
wondering
to
ourselves
how
you
"
luffed
,
"
and
where
we
were
to
get
a
"
reef
"
from
,
and
what
we
were
to
do
with
it
when
we
had
got
it
.
We
rowed
until
we
were
out
of
sight
of
the
town
,
and
then
,
with
a
wide
stretch
of
water
in
front
of
us
,
and
the
wind
blowing
a
perfect
hurricane
across
it
,
we
felt
that
the
time
had
come
to
commence
operations
.
Hector
--
I
think
that
was
his
name
--
went
on
pulling
while
I
unrolled
the
sail
.
It
seemed
a
complicated
job
,
but
I
accomplished
it
at
length
,
and
then
came
the
question
,
which
was
the
top
end
?
