I mount upon the bridge, the observed of all observers.
"Captain," I say, in clear, emphatic tones, heard far
and wide, "the majority of the company appear to be in
favour of the little cove beyond One-Tree Point."
"All right, Mr. Dodd," responds the captain heartily;
"all one to me. I am not exactly sure of the place you
mean; but just you stay here and pilot me."
I do, pointing with my wand. I do pilot him, to the
inexpressible entertainment of the picnic, for I am
(why should I deny it?) the popular man. We slow down
off the mouth of a grassy valley, watered by a brook
and set in pines and redwoods. The anchor is let go,
the boats are lowered--two of them already packed with
the materials of an impromptu bar--and the Pioneer
Band, accompanied by the resplendent asses, fill the
other, and move shoreward to the inviting strains of
"Buffalo Gals, won't you come out to-night?" It is a
part of our programme that one of the asses shall, from
sheer clumsiness, in the course of this embarkation,
drop a dummy axe into the water, whereupon the mirth of
the picnic can hardly be assuaged.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186