Dennis studiously avoided contact with anyone in the water and espe- cially the gangs of splashing roughhousing boys that roamed the shallows. The guards were not always there to discipline the splashers and shovers and Dennis naturally feared any involvement with their sort. For an hour or so the little girl in the blue and white suit with the pleated skirt was left to her own pleasures. She was hanging on the edge in the shallows when she heard an inquiring voice.

"Hello."

"Hello," he managed in return. A little girl in a yellow suit was the greeter. She was hanging on the edge beside him and Dennis could see that she was somewhat younger than he.

"What's your name?" she demanded.

Dennis had an impulse to swim away without any further ado but he remained on the edge confident that such a young girl could not see through his disguise.

"What's your name?" Dennis replied.

"Lisa."

"What's your name?" she insisted again.

"Maryann," Dennis lied.

"Can you swim?"

"Yes."

"How did you learn?”

"I went to classes."

"Oh. I can't swim," his companion admitted.

"You have pretty fingers," Lisa complimented.

Dennis withdrew one hand and selfconsciously put it underwater.

"My mother won't let me have nail polish will yours?"

"Yes."

―

"How old are you?” Lisa wanted to know looking at Maryann's fingers enviously.

"I'm ten," Maryann replied pushing off and moving away. Dennis was becoming alarmed at the little girl's interest in him. But Lisa was not so easily discouraged. She followed Maryann here and there around the

72