Unfortunately, we nearly succeeded in drowning some young friends
of ours, whom we persuaded to accompany us in an attack on the
pirates' stronghold. We embarked on a raft used for cutting weeds,
but no sooner had we shoved off than the raft at once, most
inconsiderately, sank to the bottom of the lake with us. Being
Christmas time, the water was not over-warm, and we had some
difficulty in extricating our young friends. Their parents made
the most absurd fuss about their sons having been forced to take a
cold bath in mid-December in their best clothes. Clearly we could
not be held responsible for the raft failing to prove sea-worthy,
though my youngest brother, even then a nice stickler for correct
English, declared, that, given the circumstances, the proper
epithet was "lake-worthy."
What a wonderful dream-world the child can create for himself, and
having fashioned it and peopled it, he can inhabit his creation in
perfect content quite regardless of his material surroundings,
unless some grown-up, with his matter-of-fact bluntness, happens
to break the spell.
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