“Comfortable! who wants to be comfortable; we can be comfortable any time.”
At supper John broached the matter, and asked Sally to let them have some blankets.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said she; “you’ll get your death’s cold, and your folks won’t like it.”
“Let them have the clothes,” said Ben; “we’ve invited them here to have a holiday; let them spend it in their own fashion; it will taste the sweeter.”
As they passed the maple on their way to the woods, John suddenly exclaimed, “What say, boys, for camping in the top of the tree? it will be grand to lie there, hear the wind blow, feel the tree rock, and listen to the surf in the night.”
“What if it should storm?” said Charlie.
“It can’t storm; see how clear it is; and the wind is north-west—yes, and west of that.”
“We will lash ourselves in.”
Tying the blankets to a line, they hoisted them up. They went to the beach, and picking up some dry eel-grass, spread it over the platform for a bed, and covered it with the sail of Ben’s canoe.