Part 9 (2/2)

Every minute of that drive is pleasure. We laugh. We sing. We joke with each other. What good friends we have all become! And yet how sad to think that in a few short hours we may part, perhaps never to meet again. Is it any wonder that I, who have had many partings, should feel sad? Is life only to be made up of partings? Or are we to look forward to happy meetings?

Who knows? Anyway, nothing is to be gained by spoiling our last few hours together. So again let us be merry and bright, adopting for our motto, ”Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”

The farmers come to the doors of the farm-houses to bid us good-bye and G.o.dspeed. The same motherly cows stand looking at us with their serious eyes. The same frisky calves run along on the inside of the fence, a little older, a little wiser, but still recognizing kindred spirits among us, as when we travelled this road a few short weeks ago.

How quickly the time has flown! It is only impetuous youth who desires the time to fly. In later years he dreads to see it pa.s.s so quickly. If it is a long lane that never has a turning, then ours has been quite a long one. At last we come in sight of the depot.

What a merry crowd! It is quite an event to see us come and go, almost as good as the circus, but much cheaper.

Any of the Campers who have any change left are busily trying to get rid of it. They don't mean to be caught with any money on them when they get home if they can help it. The druggist, the fruit store, the candy shop, all get their share, and when the train pulls in, the boys can happily state that they have only car fare left.

The ride on the train affords plenty of enjoyment to old and young. The pa.s.sengers who are not Campers are very much amused at the antics of those that are.

When they were going to Camp, they spent the hours before they got there by saying all they were going to do; now on leaving, they entertain each other by retailing all the fun they have had while there.

We get back to Portland in plenty of time for supper.

Everything looks clean, dainty and appetizing. The boys tuck in as though they never knew when they were going to get another square feed.

At last Nature, good old soul that she is, cried, ”Stop or take the consequences,” and most of them did. One or two who thought they had room for just a little more stowed away enough to give them a nice little stomach-ache, which ought to have taught them better.

After supper we went aboard the train, and settled ourselves comfortably until it was time to start.

Our berths were a.s.signed to us and, as on our outward trip, the little shavers were put together at one end of the car in charge of instructors and Biddy.

Soon after we were all aboard, the train drew out of the station. For some little time, boys visited one another in the different cars. Then the long-lost bugle was discovered. The bugler was summoned and ordered to blow ”Quarters.” Every man Jack of them at once obeyed, found out where he was to sleep and in less than one hour, when Taps were sounded, all were in bed.

For the last time the bugler stood in turn in every car sounding Taps, the porter ready to put the lights out. In that narrow s.p.a.ce it sounded very loud, very clear and most beautiful.

”Good night, fellows; see you in the morning. Don't forget to come up to the house to-morrow night.”

”Here, you, stop taking all the bed clothes.” ”Oh, you chaps in that upper berth, don't throw cracker crumbs around.”

”Please, sir, can we have the window opened?” ”Please, sir, can we have the window closed?” Laughter, happiness and teasing until the last one is asleep!

Throughout the long night nothing is heard but the click of the rails as the train drives on, the brakeman pa.s.sing through with his green and red lanterns, the faithful instructors seeing that all are covered, our beloved Director himself looking out for the welfare of his flock.

Biddy herself in her favorite corner. But like an old mother hen who has carefully brought up the families of several other hens, now that her chickens are able to scratch for themselves, and when nightfall comes have wings strong enough to fly to the top of the roost, she feels she can stretch her legs, then one wing, then the other, cramped by long hovering, and with a sigh of complete satisfaction close her eyes in sleep, secure in the thought that ”He who slumbers not nor sleeps” will watch and protect her flock.

We still have to get dressed on the train, and that is something to look forward to.

Before daylight some of the boys are up and about. It is of no use trying to sleep any more, so we may as well tidy ourselves up, wash our faces, if there is any water, brush each other off, and try and look just a bit tidy when we get to the station.

Parents and friends will be so happy to see us that they will forgive us, no matter how wild and woolly we look.

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