THE SOUND OF MERRY LAUGHTER
(_My Sister Wrote That Heading_)
“Now I _know_ you’re crazy!” Pee-wee yelled. “The path back to the main
trail is on our _right_,” Brent said. “We must shun it. Our honor is at
stake.”
“Don’t talk about steaks,” Warde said.
“You’re a lot of nuts, that’s what you are!” Pee-wee yelled.
“Don’t remind me of nuts,” I said. “Our Cook’s Tour has come to an end
within sniffing distance of food. And _you_ are to _blame_!”
“Please don’t use the word cook,” Warde said.
“It shows where one false step may lead,” Brent said, very solemn-like.
“If we turn around that trail is on our left,” the kid shouted. “I never
said I wouldn’t turn around, did I?”
“We are facing the south,” Brent said.
“I’m not!” Pee-wee screamed.
“Go your way, Scout Harris,” he said, “but remember that you deserted
the left-handed hikers by turning to the right. You are taking your
first false step. We follow the path of honor.”
“Me for the _seat_ of honor,” I said. “Let’s sit down in the boat.”
“How long are we going to stay here?” the kid asked. I noticed that he
sat down in the boat with us. He isn’t a quitter, that’s one sure thing.
So then we were all sitting in the boat laughing. We all faced the same
way, south, and it made us look awful funny. If we could have rocked the
boat around so it headed the other way then the trail might have been on
our left, but the boat was fastened at both ends so there we were with
the lake to the left of us and the trail (if you call it a trail) to the
right of us and how could we get away, that was the question.
I guess you see how it was; if we hadn’t moved north of the trail and
stood facing south, we could have gone back to the main trail and kept
going round. But you see Brent caught us when the little trail was on
our right and if you don’t see I should worry because I have troubles of
my own. Anyway, there we were sitting in the boat all facing the same
way like an audience at a show.
“My honor comes first,” Brent said.
“My appetite comes next,” Pee-wee said. “How long are we going to sit
here?”
“Till doomsday,” I said.
“Till we find some way to turn to the left,” said Brent.
“One place is just as good as another, if not better,” I said; “anyway
we’re sitting down.”
“There goes the dinner horn,” Hervey said.
“Let it go,” I said, “that’s more than we can do.”
“They’re going to have clam chowder too, to-day,” Pee-wee said.
“I hear you calling me,” Brent began singing.
“We’re a lot of fools,” Pee-wee said. “All we have to do is get up and
hike around to dinner. This left-handed hike is nothing but a lot of
nonsense anyway. It’s gone far enough.”
“Sure it has,” I said. “I don’t see it going any farther.”
So then Hervey began rocking the boat and singing that crazy stuff:
“When you go on a hike just you mind what I say,
The right way to go is the opposite way.
If you come to a cross-road don’t make a mistake,
Choose a road, and the _other’s_ the one you should take.
Don’t bother with sign boards but follow this song,
If you start on the right road you’re sure to go wrong.
You can go on your feet, you can go on a bike,
But the right way is wrong when you start on a hike.”
Gee whiz, I guess we sat there about half an hour. Most of the time we
were jollying Pee-wee; that’s our favorite outdoor sport. And all the
time we were all sitting facing the same way just like an audience. We
were kind of lazy like. We felt kind of lazy and silly, I guess.
Warde said, “This is a very nice boat, I like the inside of it better
than the outside.”
“The outside of it isn’t a boat at all,” the kid grumbled.
I said, “Well, if it hasn’t got an outside how can it have an inside?
That shows how much you know about geometry.”
“Outside this boat, is that a boat?” he yelled.
“Absolutely, positively,” I said. “For goodness’ sake pick up that rag
under your feet and wash your face with it. You brought all the mud from
the bottom of the outlet along with you. You look like a mud-pie.”
“Will you keep still about pie!” he hollered. “How long are we going to
sit here like a lot of fools? Just because we made a crazy resolution——”
“Our honor is at stake,” Brent said.
“Look at Sandwich, he went home,” the kid grumbled.
“How can I look at him then?” I said. “Anyway he didn’t vow any vow.”
Then Hervey started singing:
“We vowed a vow,
We vowed a vow,
And now we’re marooned on a padlocked scow.”
Pretty soon all of us were singing:
“We’re here because we’re here,
We cannot get away;
The path to the left has turned to the right.
And here we’re going to stay,
And here we’re going to stay;
For that’s the only way.”
All of a sudden Hervey shouted, “I’ve got an idea!” Then he pulled up
the stake that was stuck in the water near the stern of the boat. A
chain went from the boat to that stake, and there was a padlock, but it
wasn’t much good when he pulled the stake up. He said, “Ha, ha, we are
shaved, I mean saved. This alters the whole face of nature. Just a
minute and the trail will be on our left, and the hike can continue
along the same lines as before.”
“Not for me!” Pee-wee shouted. “I’m sitting here, and I’m going to stay
sitting here, I don’t care what happens!”
“Well, anyway, take that rag that’s under your feet and wash your face
with it,” I told him.
“I won’t do that either,” he said; “I’m tired of this whole business.
I’m going to stay here till I get good and rested.”
All the while we were rocking the boat so it would move around. The bow
of it was chained so the stern swung around until the boat bobbed
against the shore and was facing north instead of south, just like the
boat I made with dotted lines on the map. So you see then the little
trail was on our left. Hervey pushed the stake down into the bottom of
the lake so the boat would stay that way.
Brent said, “Thanks to Hervey Willetts now we can proceed upon our hike.
We haven’t been around much lately. Shall we hit the trail?”
“If I hit that trail as I’d like to hit it,” Pee-wee shouted.
“I’d—I’d—I’d—give it—I’d give it two black eyes——”
“It would be a blind trail,” Brent said.
“You can turn to the left and go wherever you want to,” the kid shouted.
“I’m going to sit right here in this boat, I don’t care anything about
faces of nature——”
“The least you could do would be to wash your own face,” Warde told him.
“I’ll wash my hands of you and my face too,” the kid hollered. “I’m
going to sit right here in this boat till I get good and rested, and
then I’m going around to dinner. I resign from this crazy hike and
you’re all lunatics.”
Warde said, “Those are harsh words, Scout Harris.”
The kid looked awful funny sitting there in the boat after the rest of
us got out. He just sat there with a terrible scowl on his face, and his
face was all grimy on account of falling in at the outlet. He was good
and mad.
The rest of us were standing on the shore watching him and we were just
going to start up the daffodil trail (that’s what Warde called it) and
turn to the left when all of a sudden we heard the sound of merry
laughter echoing through the woods. My sister wrote that sentence about
merry laughter echoing through the woods. I was going to write that we
heard a couple of girls giggling somewhere around, I should worry, and
that’s the end of this chapter.