When the first pangs of hunger had been quieted, conversation began briskly. At least half the boys narrated their personal adventures and experiences, boasted of blistered heels and tired muscles. Very kindly, the rain had decreased to a fine drizzle that was scarcely more than a heavy mist, and the twenty or so boys who were unable to crowd under the tarpaulin ate in some comfort, curled up on the ground in their raincoats. From time to time the fires were replenished, more lazily as the warmth and food and the good hot tea began to have effect. Kitty-Bett had provided with a lavish hand. Had he not done so the prospect of breakfast in the morning would have looked dark, for there were never forty-three healthier appetites gathered together than those which the “Reds” and the “Blues” finally managed to appease that evening! At last, when no one could hold another crumb, the fellows toppled against each other and the talk grew fainter and fainter and ever more murmurous, until, finally, a full-fledged snore broke forth, and the sleepy youths roused themselves with a laugh. “McDowell’s suggestion is a good one,” said Mr. Langham. “I vote we accept it, fellows. Who’s for bed?” Yawns of assent answered, and Ed Thursby, rising unsteadily to his feet, collided with one of the poles which held up the tarpaulin. Down came the shelter with a swish of wet canvas, sparks flew from the fires, and some twenty boys disappeared from sight amidst shouts of laughter from those outside. Out they came, rolling or crawling, and the party set off for bed. Bare boards, even when softened by a raincoat and a single thickness of blanket, do not make a downy couch, but no complaints were heard. One by one, with shoes for a pillow, the tired boys dropped off to sleep. Over them blew the damp night air, and from the roof and trees came the steady patter of rain-drops. And from forty-three motionless, blanket-wrapped forms came evidences of healthy slumber. CHAPTER X SIDNEY SINGS A DITTY Breakfast was over by half-past eight the next morning, and the boys and councillors, fortified by plenty of fried bacon, bread and butter, and hot coffee--to say nothing of the remains of the doughnut crop--were ready for the return trip. Spirits were high, for sleep had rested and refreshed them, and, to make life seem still better worth living, the sun was out radiantly, the sky was washed clean of clouds, and a crisp little breeze blew from the distant lake.