ON A MOUNTAIN CRAG
I will not attempt to more than catalogue their doings for the next few days. That afternoon they took a long tramp to the village to lay in fresh food supplies. They returned at dusk, and found the young man whom they had met with the ox-team that morning, at the tent door with a bag of sweet-corn. He assisted them in making a fire, and they had a grand feast for supper. The next day, which was Wednesday, they took a long drive over the hills to points of interest that La Fay told them about. Thursday was reserved for a trouting expedition. Friday they drove over to the Groveland House to see their college friend, Alliston.
“Well, fellows,” he said, “how do you like it?”
“Splendid!” said the campers; “we’re having a grand, good time. How do you get along here?”
ONE OF THE GREEN MOUNTAIN PEAKS
“It’s rather dull times, I think myself,” said Alliston. “We talk, and talk, and play tennis, and have a grand performance every day or two over a drive or a clambake. But half the time I think we’re making believe we’re having a good time rather than really having it. I have an idea, some way, that you fellows are getting the best of it.”
AMONG THE BIG HILLS