"Here, you, stop taking all the bed clothes." "Oh, you chaps in that upper berth, don't throw cracker crumbs around."
"Please, sir, can we have the window opened?" "Please, sir, can we have the window closed?" Laughter, happiness and teasing until the last one is asleep!
Throughout the long night nothing is heard but the click of the rails as the train drives on, the brakeman passing through with his green and red lanterns, the faithful instructors seeing that all are covered, our beloved Director himself looking out for the welfare of his flock.
Biddy herself in her favorite corner. But like an old mother hen who has carefully brought up the families of several other hens, now that her chickens are able to scratch for themselves, and when nightfall comes have wings strong enough to fly to the top of the roost, she feels she can stretch her legs, then one wing, then the other, cramped by long hovering, and with a sigh of complete satisfaction close her eyes in sleep, secure in the thought that "He who slumbers not nor sleeps" will watch and protect her flock.
We still have to get dressed on the train, and that is something to look forward to.
Before daylight some of the boys are up and about. It is of no use trying to sleep any more, so we may as well tidy ourselves up, wash our faces, if there is any water, brush each other off, and try and look just a bit tidy when we get to the station.
Parents and friends will be so happy to see us that they will forgive us, no matter how wild and woolly we look.
To see such a company of tanned and healthy boys is well worth coming to the depot and waiting for belated trains.
As we hand over the last boy to his folks, what a lot of satisfaction it affords us to know and feel we have played the game fair, and given every one a square deal!
Once more we hear the Camp calls, sounding strange here in the city. Good byes are exchanged, thanks expressed, hopes for another season, and at last they have all been taken away from us.