We found a little basin among the rushes at the south end of the lake, about waist-deep and a rod or two wide, shaped like a sunfish’s nest.  Here we kicked and plashed for many a lesson, faithfully trying to imitate frogs; but the smooth, comfortable sliding gait of our amphibious teachers seemed hopelessly hard to learn.  When we tried to kick frog-fashion, down went our heads as if weighted with lead the moment our feet left the ground.  One day it occurred to me to hold my breath as long as I could and let my head sink as far as it liked without paying any attention to it, and try to swim under the water instead of on the surface.  This method was a great success, for at the very first trial I managed to cross the basin without touching bottom, and soon learned the use of my limbs.  Then, of course, swimming with my head above water soon became so easy that it seemed perfectly natural.  David tried the plan with the same success.  Then we began to count the number of times that we could swim around the basin without stopping to rest, and after twenty or thirty rounds failed to tire us, we proudly thought that a little more practice would make us about as amphibious as frogs.

On the fourth of July of this swimming year one of the Lawson boys came to visit us, and we went down to the lake to spend the great warm day with the fishes and ducks and turtles.  After gliding about on the smooth mirror water, telling stories and enjoying the company of the happy creatures about us, we rowed to our bathing-pool, and David and I went in for a swim, while our companion fished from the boat a little way out beyond the rushes.  After a few turns in the pool, it occurred to me that it was now about time to try deep water.  Swimming through the thick growth of rushes and lilies was somewhat dangerous, especially for a beginner, because one’s arms and legs might be entangled among the long, limber stems; nevertheless I ventured and struck out boldly enough for the boat, where the water was twenty or thirty feet deep.  When I reached the end of the little skiff I raised my right hand to take hold of it to surprise Lawson, whose back was toward me and who was not aware of my approach; but I failed to reach high enough, and, of course, the weight of my arm and the stroke against the overleaning stern of the boat shoved me down and I sank, struggling, frightened and confused.  As soon as my feet touched the bottom, I slowly rose to the surface, but before I could get breath enough to call for help, sank back again and lost all control of myself.  After sinking and rising I don’t know how many times, some water got into my lungs and I began to drown.  Then suddenly my mind seemed to clear.  I remembered that I could swim under water, and, making a desperate struggle toward the shore, I reached a point where with my toes on the bottom I got my mouth above the surface, gasped for help, and was pulled into the boat.

This humiliating accident spoiled the day, and we all agreed to keep it a profound secret.  My sister Sarah had heard my cry for help, and on our arrival at the house inquired what had happened.  “Were you drowning, John?  I heard you cry you couldna get oot.”  Lawson made haste to reply, “Oh, no!  He was juist haverin (making fun).”