Boy Scouts of America -- Juvenile fiction; Camps -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Hiking -- Juvenile fiction
He had lots and lots of friends, but they weren’t scouts at camp. He
knew all the farmers around the country, and sometimes he stayed at
their homes all night. He got acquainted with peddlers and tramps and
stayed away and, gee whiz, you couldn’t blame the trustees for getting
mad. He was funny in some ways.
He could do most anything, but yet he never bothered his head about
merit badges. Mr. Ellsworth (he’s our scoutmaster) said Hervey was an
adventurer, not a scout. He said he could do stunts, but he could never
do tests. Mr. Ellsworth said scouting is a kind of a harness, and Hervey
couldn’t wear a harness. Anyway, just the same he liked Hervey because
he just couldn’t help it.
I had to laugh to myself when I thought how he was sitting on that
shutter just waiting for it to be let down so he could have a swim after
hours. He could say he fell in and had to swim to the landing. If
anybody would be to blame it would be Chocolate Drop, who always let the
shutter down from the inside.
I was wondering how Hervey got out there on that shutter. He must have
climbed over the roof of the cooking shack and let himself down on the
side over the lake. I had to laugh when I thought how funny it would
look when the shutter was let down to see him go sprawling accidentally
on purpose into the lake, which would be just what he wanted. I knew he
intended to beat the rule, but gee, I couldn’t help seeing the funny
side of it.
But anyway, soon we forgot all about it on account of the scouts all
being at the landing to meet us. I guess every scout I ever saw at
Temple Camp was there. Bert Winton was there and Brent Gaylong. He was
just as lanky as ever, and his spectacles were half-way down his nose
like a schoolmaster, and he had that same slow, drawly, funny way about
him.
There’s always a big fuss when our troop gets to camp, because Mr.
Temple, who started the camp, lives in our town. Pee-wee says Mr. Temple
donated the camp, and he thinks that means he supplied it with
doughnuts. The reason why Mr. Temple doughnutted the camp is because he
was interested in Tom Slade when Tom was a hoodlum in our town.
Tom Slade used to be in our troop, but now he stays at Temple Camp all
the time, and he’s assistant manager under Uncle Jeb Rushmore, and Uncle
Jeb used to be a trapper, and he fought with General Custer, and Pee-wee
thinks that General Custer was named after cup custards, and General
Custer fought the Indians, and if it wasn’t for the Indians we wouldn’t
have any Indian pudding, and that’s my favorite dessert.
So that brings me to the part where we were all eating dessert that
first night we got to Temple Camp. Everybody was through supper and we
had the eats pavilion all to ourselves on account of it being too dark
to eat at the big mess-board out under the trees.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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