r dishes with names deemed unsuitable for
publication.

After considering his dinner menu for a time, Wallie drew his knees to
his chin, which enabled him to his get entire body under the soogan, and
contrasted his present surroundings with those of the previous
Christmas.

In the spacious Florida hotel last year he had only to touch a button to
bring a uniformed menial who served him coffee and lighted a grate fire
for him, while the furnishings of his room and bath were quite as
luxurious as those of The Colonial.

Now, as the light strengthened, Wallie could see his third-handed stove
purchased from the secondhand man, Tucker, standing in the corner with
its list to starboard. The wind blowing through the baling wire which
anchored the stove-pipe to the wall sounded like an aeolian harp played
by a maniac. His patent camp chair had long since given way beneath him,
and when he had found at the Prouty Emporium two starch boxes of the
right height, he had been as elated when they were given to him as if he
had been the recipient of a valuable present. They now served as chairs
on either side of his plank table.

His pneumatic mattress had collapsed from punctures, and Wallie's bones
were uncomfortably close to the boards in the bottom of the bunk
McGonnigle had built against one end of the cabin. His pillow was a
flour sack filled with straw and of a doubtful colour, as was also the
hand towel hanging on a nail beside a shocking wash basin.

There was a dirt roof on the cabin from which clods of earth fell rather
frequently and bounced on Wallie's head or dropped in the food, or on
his bed to startle him when sleeping. The floor contained knotholes
through which the field mice and chipmunks came up to share his
provisions, and the door, being a trifle larger than the frame, could
not be closed entirely.

When Wallie had called McGonnigle's attention to the fact that he could
stand in the middle of his cabin and view the scenery through the cracks
in any direction, McGonnigle had assured him that "fresh air never hurt
nobody," and while he cheerfully admitted that he was not a carpenter,
declared that he had made allowances for this fact in his charges.

Though Wallie could not notice it when he paid them, he said nothing,
for by now he was accustomed to having everything cost more than he had
anticipated, however liberal he might be in his estimate.

Boise Bill rode by occasionally and inquired humorously if h