"Push off," commanded the coxswain-coach, as he took his seat in the stern, with the tiller ropes in his hands. "You will notice that some of you are on what is called the stroke side—that is, with your oars on the same side as Frank Simpson, who faces me. So when I say 'stroke side pull,' it means that only those on that side, or at my right hand, are to row.
"Oppositely, some of you are on what is known as the bow side, or with your oars on the side on which sits Boswell, the bow oar. That is on my left. Though, of course, you all sit in the middle of the boat. So when I give orders for the stroke oars to do certain things I mean for those on Frank's side to obey. Now then, row, stroke oars!"
Four blades shot back and took the water, not all at once, as they should have done, but fairly well for the first time. As the craft was heading down stream, with the stroke oars nearest the float, this manoeuver tended to swing the craft farther out into the river to clear the dock.
"Row, bows!" came the order, and the others, dipping their blades, slewed the craft around until she was straight again, and far enough out to enable a good start to be made.
"Very good!" complimented the coach. "Now then, row all!"
The frail shell, like some grotesque water
