LAKE WOLVERINE
Coasting, skating or falling down this hill more than forty miles an hour prohibited.
Picnic parties must keep off the grass.
No dogs allowed to run at large—wolves take notice.
"By all that's wonderful, we're right at our lake," cried Bob, joyously. "Isn't that great?"
"Hurrah!" added Sam. "We did circle around, after all."
"Think of that tramp we're saved," put in Dick, with shining eyes.
The strange wording of the sign-post was, for a moment, forgotten in the joy of their discovery. Then Bob began to laugh.
"This must be jokers' paradise," he exclaimed. "Nice country for a picnic, eh?"
"The man who wrote that is certainly a backwoods wit," grinned Sam. "Say," he continued, abruptly, "I wonder if he's the fellow who has been playing all those jokes on us."