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Words: 24956 in 11 pages
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Dedication
Foreword
NOWADAYS, whenever we pick up a magazine, we read the notices of Camps all the way from Maine to California, who are in need of Campers, and think how very popular camping is becoming, when as a matter of fact it is the one and only pastime that has always retained its popularity.
We can trace it back to the prehistoric ages; see it carved in hieroglyphics on obelisks, find upon investigation that North, South, East or West, the tribes of Red, Black, Yellow and White, have gloried in living in tents, so is it any wonder that mankind still loves it?
This thin veneer of civilization which makes us desire to shut ourself in structures of brick and wood is only skin deep. Right under the surface the love for the open prevails so strongly, that every little while a man who has been brought up according to our standards breaks loose, takes to the road and lives a life of freedom, while the world looking on pities him for going down in the scale and tries to bring him back from the life his nature craves, to one of humdrum existence.
Then come along with me, please, do, for just one summer in Camp and you will say at the end of the season that you can squeeze more fun into a canvas tent than into all the palaces you ever were in.
CAMPING
Getting Ready.
With the catalog and prospectus in front of you, making delightful little shivers run up and down your spine, you begin marking down, first, the articles you must have; then the things you hope your fond relatives will give you; then the clothes and athletic goods without which any boy with true camping spirit cannot get along.
Your father, who secretly expects to come out to Camp and use some of your cherished sweaters, running pants, swimming trunks, etc., etc., suggests that you get extra large sizes, to allow for shrinkage. You protest, telling him that you don't want your clothes to look like "hand-me-downs," that you had inherited from your big brother.
After many heart-breaking wrenches, during which you feel as though even death itself were preferable to giving up all the articles you have chosen, you effect a compromise by saying you will be satisfied with one fishing rod, six pairs of running pants, several pairs of sneakers, lots of sweaters, a complete outfit of oilskins, tennis racket, baseball bat, balls, and Oh! what a good boy you would be, if you could have a canoe.
You would study all winter, not want to stay up late, cross your heart to leave cigarettes and trashy novels alone, but, gee whiz! only to be the owner of a canoe. You even appeal to your father, who weighs in the neighborhood of 200 pounds, and try to make him see the fun of going out with you. Suppose you were upset? What of it? You can both swim.
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