28 A SUMMER BOATING TRIP 



Some people see something to pick and carp at in every 

 good that comes to them; I was thankful that I had 

 the berries, and resolutely ignored their little scal- 

 loped ruffles, which I found pleased the eye and did 

 not disturb the palate. 



When bedtime arrived, I found undressing a little 

 awkward, my berth was so low; there was plenty of 

 room in the aisle, and the other passengers were no- 

 where to be seen, but I did not venture out. It rained 

 nearly all night, but the train made good speed, and 

 reached the land of daybreak nearly on time. The 

 water in the river had crept up during the night to 

 within a few inches of my boat, but I rolled over and 

 took another nap, all the same. Then I arose, had a 

 delicious bath in the sweet, swift-running current, and 

 turned my thoughts toward breakfast. The making 

 of the coffee was the only serious problem. With 

 everything soaked and a fine rain still falling, how 

 shall one build a fire ? I made my way to a little island 

 above in quest of driftwood. Before I had found the 

 wood I chanced upon another patch of delicious wild 

 strawberries, and took an appetizer of them out of 

 hand. Presently I picked up a yellow birch stick the 

 size of my arm. The wood was decayed, but the bark 

 was perfect. I broke it in two, punched out the rotten 

 wood, and had the bark intact. The fatty or resinous 

 substance in this bark preserves it, and makes it excel- 

 lent kindling. With some seasoned twigs and a scrap 

 of paper I soon had a fire going that answered my 

 every purpose. More berries were picked while the 

 coffee was brewing, and the breakfast was a success. 



The camper-out often finds himself in what seems 

 a distressing predicament to people seated in their 



