little stove over which Arthur had cooked the fish and made the tea, and above it hung the jack-lamp that was kept burning all night. If any thing happened—if the wind arose and the anchor dragged, or prowlers of any sort came about—the boys wanted a light to work by. Over all was the tent, with the rain coming gently down on the top of it. One side curtain was rolled up to admit the air, but the other was buttoned securely to the gunwale. Joe wasn't going to have the squatter slip up and send a club into the cock-pit before he knew it. Taken altogether it was a cozy, home-like scene, and I no longer wondered why it was that Joe and his friends looked forward to the summer vacation with such lively anticipations of pleasure.
The boys slept soundly that night, lulled by the pattering of the rain on the roof over their heads, but the sun did not find them in bed. I caught more than my share of the trout they ate for breakfast, and that afternoon was given an opportunity to try my skill on larger game, to wit, a four pound black bass. I may add, too, that I got my first ducking, and witnessed
