pudding, and excellent baking powder biscuits, sort of 

 roughly hewn and made with water as a substitute for 

 milk. But if we imagined we had become some eaters, 

 we soon learned that we were not in it with the gas- 

 tronomic attainments of the native and hybrid jack 

 pine savage, otherwise known as scissor-bills. Apropos 

 of anything, of course, but the latter terms, we once 

 invited the local forest ranger to supper. After par- 

 taking generously of everything, and particularly of 

 the piece de resistance of the occasion, he exclaimed 

 with reference to the latter, "I'll say so, this sure hits 

 the spot ; I hope you people have plenty on hand so that 

 we can have some for supper, too.!" 



Camping and fishing are of course inseparable, and 

 the angling opportunities furnished by the park lakes 

 would rejoice the heart of any disciple of Walton. 

 Among the best known trout streams in the vicinity is 

 La Salle creek, and one evening the forestry men in the 

 park planned a trout fishing expedition for the follow- 

 ing morning. The feminine contingent wanted to be 

 included on this as on everything else; but our ardor 

 cooled somewhat on learning that we should have to 

 start in the cold, gray dawn, travel an interminable 

 distance, and then wait patiently for hours maybe, 

 sometimes wading around in the icy water, in order to 

 get a sufficient mess for breakfast. But what made us 

 finally hoist the flag of surrender was the ultimatum 

 that we should have to maintain absolute silence. We 

 balked as one at this heartless ruling, and decided that 

 very "it is not all of fishing to fish." So we accepted 

 with as good grace as possible the extra forty winks 

 allotted us the next morning, and were rewarded for 



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