"Yes, sir," answered Joe, placing the "rubbish," as Ben called it, in an old jacket, and tying the bundle with fish-line. "There, I'm all right; I'll take this in my hands. There'll be room enough in my trunk when we get back to school."
Ben laughed, and said, "You'll have your labour for your pains. You'll throw the whole lot over the back-yard fence, or your mother or sisters will for you, before many weeks."
"Nay, nay! You haven't half looked at the things; or, worse still, are no judge, boy. Mr. Bernard said they were good specimens."
"All right--carry them home; but if your folks are like mine the things will disappear. I got a lot of snakes once, the prettiest fellows you ever saw, and had them in a wire box; but no one would go near my room to clear it up, and because I wouldn't throw them away, my sisters hired a fellow to drop the box in the pond. Wasn't I angry?"
"That's different; I don't much blame them," said Joe. "Nobody will bother my collection. There, my luggage is ready."
"So is mine," said Ralph, who had been sitting on his valise outside, listening to the conversation. "Where's Dave?"
"Oh, he went to the shore long ago. There he stands with his spy-glass, watching for the steamboat, as if it would be the most welcome sight in the world; and he doesn't want to leave any more than we do.--Now, down with the tent! Pull up those stakes, boys. Mine are up. Down she goes! Let's write our names on the canvas; perhaps we shall get the same tent next year."
"Oh, doesn't the place look forsaken?" groaned Joe, as he saw the tents, one after another, rolled up and carried by the boys to the beach, where the baggage was piled.
"I see the smoke!" cried Dave.
A chorus of groans from the crowd answered this announcement.