How jolly cool it is!" "Isn't it exquisite ?" murmured Austin, with closed eyes.

"I do think that drowning must be a lovely death.

We're like the minnows, Lubin, 'staying their wavy bodies 'gainst the streams, to taste the luxury of sunny beams tempered with coolness.' That's what _our_ wavy bodies are doing now.

Don't you like it?
'Now more than ever it seems rich to die----'" But the next moment, owing probably to Lubin having lost his equilibrium, the young rhapsodist found himself, spluttering and half-choked, nearer to the bed of the river than the surface, while his leg was held in chancery by a network of clinging water-weeds.
Lubin had some slight difficulty in extricating him, and for the moment, at least, his poetic fantasies came to an abrupt and unromantic finish.
"Here, get on my back, and I'll swim you out as far as them water-lilies," said Lubin, giving him a dexterous hoist.

"I'm awfully keen on the yellow sort, and they look wonderful fine ones.