like those in museums, all colors, and with all kinds of feathers—Birds of Paradise, I guess they call them."
"Do you ever go shooting?"
"No, not in summer time," replied Hal. "But sometimes father and I take a run down here about Thanksgiving. That's the time for seaside sport. Why, last year we fished with rakes; just raked the fish up in piles—'frosties,' they call them."
"That must be fun," reflected Bert.
"Maybe you could come this year," continued Hal. "We might make up a party, if you have school vacation for a week. We could camp out in our house, and get our meals at the hotel."
"That would be fine!" exclaimed Bert. "Maybe Uncle William would come, and perhaps my Cousin Harry, from Meadow Brook. He loves that sort of sport. By the way, we expect him down for a few days; perhaps next week."
"Good!" cried Hal. "The boat carnival is on next week. I'm sure he would enjoy that."
