nything very interesting to happen to them.
They must get their excitement out of the newspapers, reading of the
hairbreadth escapes and moving accidents that befall people in real
life. What do these tame ducks really know of the adventure of living?
If the weather is bad, they are snugly housed. If it is cold, there is
a furnace in the cellar. If they are hungry, the shops are near at hand.
It is all as dull, flat, stale, and unprofitable as adding up a column
of figures. They might as well be brought up in an incubator.

But when man abides in tents, after the manner of the early patriarchs,
the face of the world is renewed. The vagaries of the clouds become
significant. You watch the sky with a lover's look, eager to know
whether it will smile or frown. When you lie at night upon your bed of
boughs and hear the rain pattering on the canvas close above your head,
you wonder whether it is a long storm or only a shower.

The rising wind shakes the tent-flaps. Are the pegs well driven down and
the cords firmly fastened? You fall asleep again and wake later, to
hear the rain drumming still more loudly on the tight cloth, and the
big breeze snoring through the forest, and the waves plunging along
the beach. A stormy day? Well, you must cut plenty of wood and keep the
camp-fire glowing, for it will be hard to start it up again, if you
let it get too low. There is little use in fishing or hunting in such a
storm. But there is plenty to do in the camp: guns to be cleaned, tackle
to be put in order, clothes to be mended, a good story of adventure to
be read, a belated letter to be written to some poor wretch in a summer
hotel, a game of hearts or cribbage to be played, or a hunting-trip to
be planned for the return of fair weather. The tent is perfectly dry. A
little trench dug around it carries off the surplus water, and luckily
it is pitched with the side to the lake, so that you get the pleasant
heat of the fire without the unendurable smoke. Cooking in the rain has
its disadvantages. But how good the supper tastes when it is served up
on a tin plate, with an empty box for a table and a roll of blankets at
the foot of the bed for a seat!

A day, two days, three days, the storm may continue, according to your
luck. I have been out in the woods for a fortnight without a drop of
rain or a sign of dust. Again, I have tented on the shore of a big lake
for a week, waiting for an obstinate tempest to pass by.

Look now, just a