Camping

ing

you begin marking down, first, the articles you must have; then the things you hope your fond relatives will

imming trunks, etc., etc., suggests that you get extra large sizes, to allow for shrinkage. You protest, telling

osen, you effect a compromise by saying you will be satisfied with one fishing rod, six pairs of running pants, several pairs of sneakers, lots

ut, gee whiz! only to be the owner of a canoe. You even appeal to your father, who weighs in the neighborhood of 200

ng to her nervous system being in need of recuperation, she thinks the bath tub the

asking for an appropriation for a shotgun, or at least one of those dandy lit

, too. Danger signals are displayed, and you fe

th your Kodak, walking miles every day and playing ping pong and lotto every ev

athetic squeeze in return. Say, is there anything on the face of this ear

ses to object, claiming that, as there are no car fares to be paid or soda fountains to tempt, you cannot have any possible use for money.

cted to the jingle of loose change in his pants pockets? "If suc

Camp; that your special friends, Jack, Ed, and Fatty, all spend their weekly money, and that nothing but the fear of

and cake. One plate is only an introduction; with the second one you begin to distinguish the flavor; it really needs a third one to put that sweet icy feeling in your stomach so earnestly desired by the growing youth. The next day, or maybe next but one, our friend the fruit man calls. All your life yo

t has arrived, when you will gain more by saying less, so you k

gh you at the thought of parting from your devoted parents. "Ah, me! I kind of hate to leave mother," you think, then console yourself that they will be coming up to see you. About this time your da

he pictures, try to fancy yourself posing as the champion high diver, jumper and tennis player, an

at when the teacher asks you to tell him how you would start for the North Pole you answer promptly: "From the Gr

your life, just crawls away. Saturday your fond father has promised to go

y more. If there is any smell on the face of this earth that smells nicer than new leather in an athletic goods sh

r his own boyhood, when money was as scarce as hens' teeth, makes

r full dress suit, but never, as long as you live, will clothes ever give you

ad to practice to make you bring home quickly a bottle of milk or of water or a bunch of soup greens. But now you a

ts and swimming trunks. In your baseball clothes you pose, in fancy, almost a miniature Mathewson; try a high dive from the bur

r trophy. Then, carefully folding each and every garment with almost reverent care, you vow to keep your trunk in order. If any one should mention the fact t

ne thing wanting to make life one long, sweet song unless it is the canoe which you hope for next year. All through life that one little thing which wou

ment, and

stined en

, that eac

arther th