Within the summer time of 1929 a pal of my parents, whom I shall name Teddy, for as such he shall be acknowledged by all who knew this generous man, invited the boys’ club, of which I was a member, to camp for every week in the grounds of his house at Ghyll Head, on the slopes of Cart me 1 Fell. I hear our anguished cries to this present day. I pointed, barely to the south of the place we stood to Grass Holme, a tiny, rocky islet which, way back, I had renamed. However he had his revenge. And the way he, once we had hauled him ashore, had laughed with the rest of us. I hoped he could have forgotten, however as he gazed across the lake in the direction of the western shoreline, I sensed what was coming. See you in camp! The vacation was too good to miss, and after all nobody may compel us to hitch. I am going to swear his bearded face wore a fiendish grin as he opened Kittiwake’s throttle. ErFourpenny Island d’ye mean? Slowly, very slowly, the tight-lipped face relaxed, and a few semblance of a smile appeared. Kittiwake was cruising quietly offshore and, across the water came Teddy’s voice: Proper find your own approach home. Her exhaust burbled, then snarled in derision and away she streaked to the south.Nicely, have you ever tried to propel a heavy old 18footer which wouldn’t have looked out of place in mid-Atlantic with six lengths of spruce, every of which would have put a Scotsman’s caber to disgrace? She was tied up at the jetty, and for some motive Teddy forgot to tell us that the lake degree had risen significantly after heavy rain, and that the jetty was underneath a foot of water. We did, for all of three hours. He stared on the water for an extended minute, and then at me. We must wade before we embarked and our feet, unaccustomed to such icy water, turned blue. Where’s that little island? We had been instructed to collect sandwiches and lemonade from the shop room above the boathouse after which to board Benbow, an outdated ship’s lifeboat, very heavy, very beamy and painted in battleship gray. It seemed that my utilized psychology had worked, that I had chosen the correct therapy, and I used to be comfortable to look at the human being who had been such a good buddy since those faroff camp ing days, emerge from behind the facade of the over intense politician. The smile widened, turned a chuckle, and soon, like a few schoolboys we have been laughing our heads off, at the tip of a jetty on Windermere, and on which we have been now trespassing. Time slipped backwards as we recalled how spectacular had been his downfall that day, and the way we had all howled as his long, lean frame slapped down into the water when Benbow proved to have the stronger pull. My get together duly arrived at a boathouse owned by Teddy at Cockshott Wooden, at the southern end of Bowness Bay. We had been to be joined by a troop of Scouts, a motion wherein Teddy took a eager interest, and if we suspected him of having an ulterior motive and that it was all only a recruiting campaign for the Scouts, then we chose to disregard it. You are beefing about this slap in the face as you call it, I stated. Do you remember another stomach flop you had? That little chunk of rock, thrusting up above the lake surface, had been the scene of per sonal humiliation for me the day after my good friend’s unscheduled entry into the water.