er a
while, and to make bets with one another as to what would be the outcome
of his next push.

In the course of time my friends arrived on the opposite bank, and they
stopped and watched him too. His back was towards them, and they only
saw his jacket and cap. From this they immediately jumped to the
conclusion that it was I, their beloved companion, who was making an
exhibition of himself, and their delight knew no bounds. They commenced
to chaff him unmercifully.

I did not grasp their mistake at first, and I thought, "How rude of them
to go on like that, with a perfect stranger, too!" But before I could
call out and reprove them, the explanation of the matter occurred to me,
and I withdrew behind a tree.

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.

[Picture: Bathing] 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 mist