Catoxen Cabin on the Rancocas 



BY GEORGE SPENCER MORRIS 



All things must have a beginning as well as an ending, and 

 our camp on the Rancocas commenced in the writer's parlor one 

 Sunday afternoon about ten years ago. We were sitting before 

 the open wood-fire talking of old times. There were two of us, 

 the one a sportsman much interested in birds, the other an orni- 

 thologist much interested in sport. We were reminiscing, and 

 our good wives would be the first to forgive their much blessed 

 husbands for the little note of longing that crept into our con- 

 versation as we dwelt on da3's gone by when guns and canoes, 

 frying-pans and fishing tackle claimed our attention rather than 

 servants' wages and the sizes of babies' shoes. Presently the 

 long-legged sportsman broached the thought that perhaps even 

 staid married men like ourselves might keep a little in touch 

 with old woods life if we went about it in the right waj'. The 

 idea found a ready resting place in the mind of the short-legged 

 ornithologist, and then and there was conceived the plan of 

 erecting a small house, shack or shanty somewhere in "God's 

 great out-of-doors." We had not the faintest idea of the best 

 location for this air castle, but we were not unduly ambitious; 

 we sought no sportsman's paradise. We just wanted a bit of 

 woodland — pines preferred — well away from the city; a stream 

 that would float a canoe and perhaps furnish a few fish ; a country 

 not thickly settled, where we could cut our own firewood with- 

 out criticism and once more enjoj' the sweet incense of frying 

 bacon wafted upward through overhanging boughs; wherein the 

 autumn we might be able now and then to knock over a quail 

 or a rabbit. In the spring we just wanted to watch the flowers 

 grow and hear the birds sing; and then, too, a fellow could 

 sometimes take his wife and children. This generous thought 

 naturally arose to soothe the stirrings of the domestic conscience. 



The next move was made in the dining-room of a well-known 

 club, where the table was spread for three. The men of the 



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