Leaving Camp.
Bright and early they are all up and dressed, only as anxious to be off as they were to get here the beginning of the season.
Long before there is any possibility of the wagons coming for them they stand, looking up the road, like sister Anne in the story of Bluebeard.
Some of them are really ready. Most of them are not. It is always at the last moment that one finds most important articles that ought to have been snugly stowed away in the bottom of the trunks, lying under the bed.
One boy is stuffing all his soiled clothes in his rubber boots. Not such a bad idea. You cannot make rubber boots go into a tiny little place, so may as well fill them up.
Another is tearing everything out of his trunk to repack it, having found that there is no room on top for his blankets. Still another solves his problem by throwing away everything he thinks he won't need for the winter. Whether that suits his parents as well as it does him history sayeth not.
How the average mother is able to put such quantities of clothes and shoes and sporting goods in that same trunk before it left home and have room to spare has always been a mystery to him. Maybe if the mothers were to let the boy himself do his packing, while they looked on, it would teach the boy a good practical lesson, and at the end of the season prevent many a heartache.
By the time breakfast is over the wagons begin to arrive. Those who are ready make a wild dash for the best-looking rig. "But not so quick, my friend. You may as well climb out and wait for your instructors, who are going along with you. No need of crowding. There is plenty of room for all."
Are they really so anxious to be off, or is it just the last bit of Camp frolic? At the same time, from previous experience, my advice is to take it easy up to a certain point. On this, our last day in Camp don't let us neglect one thing that we ought to do for the good of the Camp, and yet while we are putting everything in place, locking up all the articles that ought to be locked, at the same time you help half a hundred boys to get their belongings together.
Tie one of the little boy's shoe laces, lend another one a collar button, give a safety pin to another, find a lost hat for a third, put a bandage on a fourth, close up bags, open trunks, strap suit cases, fetch, carry and help anywhere, any one, anybody. Of course, you are going to do all this. In your inmost heart you hope you will be able to take one farewell swim, and still have time to dress like a civilized being, but nothing is certain here.