Part 9 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XVI.

Leaving Camp.

Bright and early they are all up and dressed, only as anxious to be off as they were to get here the beginning of the season.

Long before there is any possibility of the wagons coming for them they stand, looking up the road, like sister Anne in the story of Bluebeard.

Some of them are really ready. Most of them are not. It is always at the last moment that one finds most important articles that ought to have been snugly stowed away in the bottom of the trunks, lying under the bed.

One boy is stuffing all his soiled clothes in his rubber boots. Not such a bad idea. You cannot make rubber boots go into a tiny little place, so may as well fill them up.

Another is tearing everything out of his trunk to repack it, having found that there is no room on top for his blankets. Still another solves his problem by throwing away everything he thinks he won't need for the winter. Whether that suits his parents as well as it does him history sayeth not.

How the average mother is able to put such quant.i.ties of clothes and shoes and sporting goods in that same trunk before it left home and have room to spare has always been a mystery to him. Maybe if the mothers were to let the boy himself do his packing, while they looked on, it would teach the boy a good practical lesson, and at the end of the season prevent many a heartache.

By the time breakfast is over the wagons begin to arrive. Those who are ready make a wild dash for the best-looking rig. ”But not so quick, my friend. You may as well climb out and wait for your instructors, who are going along with you. No need of crowding. There is plenty of room for all.”

Are they really so anxious to be off, or is it just the last bit of Camp frolic? At the same time, from previous experience, my advice is to take it easy up to a certain point. On this, our last day in Camp don't let us neglect one thing that we ought to do for the good of the Camp, and yet while we are putting everything in place, locking up all the articles that ought to be locked, at the same time you help half a hundred boys to get their belongings together.

Tie one of the little boy's shoe laces, lend another one a collar b.u.t.ton, give a safety pin to another, find a lost hat for a third, put a bandage on a fourth, close up bags, open trunks, strap suit cases, fetch, carry and help anywhere, any one, anybody. Of course, you are going to do all this. In your inmost heart you hope you will be able to take one farewell swim, and still have time to dress like a civilized being, but nothing is certain here.

Just as you decide to put the drugs away and empty the bottles out so they won't freeze during the winter, one of the boys comes into the hospital to have a cut dressed. ”How on the face of the earth did you do that? And on the last day, too. Pity you could not remember to cut yourself during office hours.” His excuse is that he found his pocket knife that he thought he had lost, in his other pants. Was so glad to see it that he just opened it to see if it would cut. It did.

We wash the wound, tie it up and shoo him out. Are we ever going to get away?

We had always divided the season into three periods, calling them as they affected us, Mad, Glad and Sad.

Mad the first part, until everything got into working order. Glad the second part, because things were going along all right, and Sad the last part, because we hated to leave.

But to-day we have reversed it, and the Sad is first; the Mad is last.

As I said a little while ago, my advice up to a certain point is to take it easy, but in order to do so you had better carefully follow this recipe:

Take one horse, one wagon, one set of harness and one whip. You can, if you wish, separate them, or, if you have room, leave them together.

Watch your opportunity and hide them deep in the woods, where they can keep cool and quiet. When you are ready to use them step very carefully up to the horse, grasp the bridle and, jumping into the wagon, with the whip in your hand, drive off.

You might invite one or two of your friends to go along, but be sure to leave a seat for yourself.

We have often heard of people sprinting for a wager, and we have been an eye-witness of people who sprinted for a train, because they stayed back too long. Therefore, by following the above famous recipe, you will find it digestible and not hard to prepare.

Now, having left Camp at last, we have another most beautiful ride through shady roads, where the foliage is turning all colors, where Nature with a most lavish paint brush is tinting the maples, turning the apples into b.a.l.l.s of gold and red, causing the golden rod to look like a golden border alongside the road. What a riot of color! Wild astors, gentian, foxgloves, everlasting flowers shading from yellow to darkest brown!

Summer still here, but autumn creeping in a little further each day!