Pee-Wee Harris in Camp by Percy Keese Fitzhugh

The next morning Billy Simpson was out early for a row on the lake before breakfast. The lake seemed to attract him like a magnet. But he always went either early in the morning or after dark, and usually alone, from a morbid shyness about showing his skill.

He dreamed about honors, and he had been betrayed into talking freely with Brent Gaylong about his hopes and plans. But he could not, he simply _could not_, show off. Of course, to let them see him row or paddle would not be showing off. But that was what he called it.