presence of mind greatly, but his courage
yet more. I confess that except to save human life I should never have
the fortitude to grasp a caterpillar with an ungloved hand.

Doubtlessly because of the nervousness occasioned by the prevalence of
caterpillars, the bacon as broiled was not the unqualified success I had
been led to expect from reading Mr. Hough's work. Personally, I could
not grow rapturous over the wildwood tang of which so much has been said
in a complimentary way by other and more experienced campers than
myself. I am inclined to think the wildwood tang must be an acquired
taste.

Altogether, I fear our noontide repast might have proved rather a
failure had it not been that Master Horrigan's mother at the hour of his
departure had bestowed on him a quantity of ham sandwiches and a large
lemon-jelly cake of the layer variety. Eliminating broiled bacon from
our menu we lunched, therefore, on sandwiches and a part of the cake,
the latter in particular being quite agreeable to the palate though in a
somewhat shaken and disturbed state from being transported beneath
Master Horrigan's arm.

The immediate pangs of hunger being assuaged, I craved tea. Tea is the
one stimulant in which I indulge. A cup of moderately strong Oolong,
slightly weakened by the addition of a modicum of cream or hot milk,
with three lumps of sugar in it, is to me a most refreshing drink and
one to which I am strongly drawn. So I set about brewing myself a
portion of tea.

Again backsets developed. I enumerate them: First, I knew nothing,
except by the merest hearsay, of the art of brewing tea. Second, I had
failed to provide myself with a teapot or similar vessel. Third, in the
natural confusion of the moment I had left the tea on board the train.
Fourth, there was no milk, neither was there cream or sugar. A sense of
lassitude, with a slight headache, was the result of my having perforce
to forego my customary cup.

I had meant to devote the hour following the meal to an enlivening
discourse on the joys of outdoor life and communion with Nature in her
devious moods, as the poet hath said, to be couched in language suitable
for the understanding of my hearers. Accordingly, stretching myself
prone on my blanket, with my pink sofa pillow beneath my head, I began
an opening sentence.

Shortly thereafter I must have drifted off; for, on being wakened by the
efforts of an ant to penetrate my inner ear, I discovered, somewhat to
my d