When you get past Little Valley there's a kind of a small hill and then you come to the ridge. Up on top of the ridge is that big tree that Westy was squinting at. There are a lot of other trees up there but that one is bigger than any of them. Anywhere between my house and that other ridge you can see that tree. Down in Bridgeboro maybe there are places where you can't see it on account of buildings, but most always you can see it. If you could have a string from my porch to that tree, the string would be right over Bridgeboro and the river and Little Valley and that other small hill. So now you know just how it is. From my porch to that tree is about seven miles as the crow flies, and believe me the crows have it easy compared to the boy scouts. So now our troubles begin. If you want to follow us, all right, it's up to you. I should worry. We have troubles of our own. The next morning we started from my porch. We reminded ourselves of the Pilgrims and Christopher Columbus and a lot of other people you meet in school. Our young hero, P. Harris, was all decorated up like a band wagon, belt-axe, badges, compass, cooking set, a big coil of rope and the horn part of a phonograph. He had that hanging over his back like a soldier's pack. The only thing he forgot to bring was the player piano from his house. "What's that phonograph horn for?" Westy asked him. "It's to use as a megaphone," he said. "Suppose we want to--to--shout for a----" "House to get out of the way?" I said. "You never can tell when we may want to use it," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't bring my mother's sewing machine along," Dorry said. "We don't need that with this kid along," I said. "We'll have enough stitches in our sides from laughing." "We ought to have some mothers and sweethearts and things to weep when we start off," the kid said. I said, "I don't believe I've got any sweethearts around the house just at present, but wait a minute and I'll see." "Tell them to bring some handkerchiefs," Westy said. "And a couple of buckets of tears," Hunt Manners piped up. I went inside and called to my mother and my sister Marjorie and asked them if they could come out on the porch and weep. My mother said she was very busy but she'd come and weep for about a minute. _When they came out they were crying--from laughing so hard._ Then I delivered a speech. I said to my mother and sister, "You're supposed to keep on weeping and wringing your hands while I make a farewell speech. Don't you know the way the wives and sweethearts did when the Pilgrim Fathers started away?" Then I said: