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Fuller, Henry Blake, 1857-1929

"Bertram Cope's Year"

Cope was willing to go with the
others--on the present understanding. He objected to promiscuous bathing
even more strongly than he objected to promiscuous dancing.
There were some new cumuli in the east, out above the water, and they began
to take the late afternoon sun. Hortense cast about for just the right
point of view, with Carolyn to help on "atmosphere" and two young men to be
superserviceable over campstool, sketch-block and box of colors. She
brought back a few dabs which may have served some future use;--at all
events they served as items in a social record.
Cope and Amy, with some of the others, strolled off in the opposite
direction. The water remained smooth, and some of the men idly skipped
stones. One of them dipped in his hand. "Cold?" he exclaimed; "I should
say!"
Amy looked admiringly at Cope, as one who had braved, beyond season, the
chill of the great deep, and he tried to reward her with a "thought" or
two. He had skipped stones himself between dips, and Randolph had made a
reflection which he could now revise and employ.
"See!" he said, as a flat, waveworn piece of slate left the hand of the
young business-man and careered over the water; "one, two, three--six,
eight--ten, thirteen; and then down, down, after all,--down to the bottom.


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