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Show A CAMPING PARTY. 313 night overtook us, and when we pitched our tents it was so dark we could not see an inch from our noses. The next morning we were aroused by an ear-splitting shriek. A cold, clammy, 'demnition moist' frog had hopped on the forehead of one of the ladies, and to our consternation we discovered we had camped by the side of a graveyard. The punster of the crowd remarked that there was a grave side to everything in life. "Following the narrow road, all up hill and full of boulders, our horses came unaccountably to a dead standstill. We persuaded them in every way, even to firing off our pistols, but they persisted in standing still. There has always existed in my mind a logical connection between stalled teams and swearing, so, requesting the ladies to excuse me, I pitched in. "It produced the desired effect; away we went jolting, shaking, rocking, swinging, bumping and oscillating, threatening to crush every bone in our bodies. "At length, finding our road again, it led us across a rapid stream. One of the ladies expressed great fear. To comfort her I said I would put my arm around her. At the next crossing, as might have been expected, all the ladies were afraid, but that was too much, I declined embracing the crowd. "On the bank of this stream stood a man crowned with a stove-pipe hat, his hands neatly encased in kid gloves, fishing. Our driver, a Dutchman, called our attention to this prim fisherman by saying, ' Look, da ist von soft foot!' "The next evening we camped early and several of us went out for a ramble. Miss L and I took a seat on a log by the side of the trail to await the return of our friend, who felt inclined to prospect further. |
