The townspeople from neighbouring small towns and other country folk used to come from miles about, Sundays, to watch us swim and exercise.  The women wore men’s bathing suits, the men wore just trunks.  I wore only a gee-string, till Barton called me aside and informed me, that, although he didn’t mind it, others objected.  I donned trunks, then, like the rest of the men....

Behind board lean-tos,—­one for the men, the other for the women,—­we dressed and undressed....

One Sunday afternoon a Russian Jewess slipped off her clothes, in an innocent and inoffensive manner, just as if it was quite the thing,—­standing up in plain view of everybody.  There went up a great shout of spontaneous astonishment from both banks of the lake where the on-lookers sat.  But the shout did not disturb the rather pretty, dark anarchist.  Leisurely she stepped into her onepiece bathing suit.

* * * * *

Barton was a strange, strong-minded, ignorant man.  Hardly able to compose a sentence in correct English, he employed educated, but unresourceful assistants who furnished the good grammar, while he supplied the initiative and original ideas, and increased the influence and circulation of his magazine.  Also he lived strenuously up to the doctrines he taught; fasting, for instance.

Soon after I reached “Perfection City” he launched on his two weeks’ annual fast.  Up in the big house where he lived, in the next town of Andersonville (he himself would have been gladder of a mere shack or tent like the rest of us—­but his wife negated any such idea) Mrs. Barton used to taunt and insult him by putting out the best food under his nose, during this time.

Mrs. Barton was a terror.  She was ever inviting to her house that kind of people who know somebody “worth while” or are related to somebody who, in their turn, are, perhaps, related to—­somebody else!...

In their presence she would patronise Barton by calling him “Stevie!” in her drawling, patronising manner....

When the woman came in among the tents and shacks of our “city” she would, in speaking with any of us, imply all sorts of mean, insinuating things about her reformer-husband....

Barton, they said, met her while on one of his lecture tours....

Their baby ... a little, red object like a boiled lobster ... the anonymous, undistinguished creatures all babies are at that time—­the mother used to bring it in among us and coo and coo over it so ridiculously that we made her behaviour a joke among us.

* * * * *

Barton’s secretary was a beautiful, gentle, large-eyed girl ... wholly feminine ... soft-voiced ... as a reaction from the nagging of his wife, from her blatancy and utter lack of sympathy with any of his projects, he insensibly drifted into a relationship closer and closer, with this girl ... they used to take long walks into the pines together ... and be observed coming back slowly out of the sunset ... hand in hand ... to drop each other’s hands, when they considered that the observing line of vision had been reached.