BREAKING CAMP--CONCLUSION
Dick chanced to be talking with Mr. Holwell on the morning of
departure, asking his advice regarding several things that might arise
later on, when Asa Gardner approached.
Seeing the boy hesitate the minister smiled, and beckoned to him.
“I’m glad you’re having such a good time up here, Asa,” he said in his
kindly fashion, as his strong hand grasped that of the boy in whom he
felt such a deep interest.
“Oh! I certainly am feeling splendid just now,” Asa told him,
brightening up. “I was worried for a while, as Dick knows, sir, because
I had begun to be afraid that in spite of all I could do my old trouble
was getting the better of me. But when we found out about that gorilla,
why, of course, I just knew it couldn’t be so.”
“Take my advice, Asa,” said Mr. Holwell, steadily, “and never allow
yourself to believe for even a minute that you can go back to the old
ways again. That weakness is dead, I tell you! It lost its grip when
you gave your dear mother that solemn promise. I knew you would win
out, and redeem the past; and I’m proud of the way you’re doing it,
son.”
Asa should have beamed with pleasure on hearing this, but then he was
an odd sort of boy, Dick knew. He was therefore not much surprised to
hear him give a big sigh, and then go on to say with a whimsical smile:
“Sometimes I do feel that I’ve done pretty well, sir; and then I think
of the story I once heard you tell at a meeting of boys.”
“What was that, Asa?” asked the minister, realizing that the shadow of
the past would be likely to haunt the sensitive lad for a long while,
until time had healed the wound.
“I’ll tell you, sir. It certainly did make a great impression on me,”
said Asa. “There was once a boy who got to doing so many bad things
that his father took him to task. He had him set up a nice clean post,
and made him promise that every time he did a thing that he shouldn’t
he would drive a nail into it. Then when he did a good deed he could
draw a nail out.”
Mr. Holwell knew what was coming, but he only smiled, and said
encouragingly when Asa stopped to catch his breath:
“Yes, go on, Asa.”
“One day, sir, as you told us, that boy suddenly began to notice that
his post was getting pretty full of nails. That scared him, and made
him feel bad; so he set himself to stopping his bad deeds, and did
things worth while. Then one day he took his father out to look at the
post. There wasn’t a nail left in it, sir. He had drawn them every one
out!”
Again Asa gulped hard, and then managed to continue.
“The boy’s father was proud of him, you said, because he knew he had
managed by his little scheme to make the boy think, which was just what
he had wished to do. So he told him that he was pleased to see the post
without a nail. And then, Mr. Holwell, the boy turned to him and said
sadly: ‘But Father, the _holes_ are still there!’ And that’s the way
with me, sir. I seem to have managed to reform, but every little while
I see all those terrible holes in the post to remind me of what I’ve
done in the past!”
Mr. Holwell patted Asa on the shoulder.
“Cheer up, my son,” he said, heartily. “It is that regret which is
bound to make your footing sure on the rocks. When any one can forget
his weaknesses of the past he is in danger of slipping again. That
conscience of yours is going to be your best asset. Don’t fret about
what is past, but look hopefully into the future. If the chance ever
comes your way, help some other fellow to get his feet on a firm and
sure foundation. Remember, I believe in you, and I have no fear.”
Dick’s hand-grip, too, caused Asa to color. With such good friends
beside him what boy need worry about the future? So the look of
foreboding began to leave his face from that hour, and Asa showed that
he could be a good comrade in the sports of the camp, as well as in its
obligations.
The campers gave Mr. Holwell a royal send-off. The cheers followed him
across the water, and broke out again when he and Dick started for the
station, for the latter insisted on accompanying him that far on his
way, to carry his bag, and have a last little talk.
It was well on toward noon when Dick and Asa returned to camp. The
boys, together with Harry Bartlett and the physical instructor, settled
down to enjoy the remainder of their stay on Bass Island as best they
could. There could be no doubt about their having a fine time; but all
the same most of them would miss Mr. Holwell very much.
Nat Silmore was beginning to grow tired of it all. He missed something
that he was accustomed to having when off on any such trip as this.
This was the liberty to play pranks without being reprimanded by Harry
Bartlett or the athletic director.
So Nat and his two cronies fretted under the galling conditions. They
would have only too willingly accompanied the circus men when they
went away with the captured gorilla, except for the fact that Mr.
Bartlett had the return railway tickets, and the distance was much too
far for them to dream of trying to walk.
Nat and his cronies on one occasion refused to do their share of the
work, whereupon Mr. Bartlett promptly gave them to understand that
those who did not take part in the camp routine and daily exercises
could not have anything to eat. That, of course, brought the rebels to
terms, but from that time on, while they picked berries and chopped
wood in turn, and forced themselves to play their parts, they kept
pretty much to themselves, and looked gloomy, as though counting the
days when this irksome camp life would come to an end.
With the three mill boys the exact opposite came about. They learned
that these other lads were not in the least snobbish. Then the kindly
spirit in which most of the boys helped pick berries so that Eddie, Ban
and Cub could enjoy their afternoons in any way they wished, made a
deep impression on the three.
“One thing sure!” Eddie told Dick, on the day before they were to break
camp and start back to Cliffwood. “You’ll see a lot of the mill boys
fairly tumble over themselves to join the Junior Department of the
Y. M. C. A. when they hear how royally we three have been taken care
of up here. From Mr. Holwell, Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Rowland, all the
way down, I want to say you’re the whitest bunch that I ever traveled
with--all but Nat Silmore and his pair of black sheep.”
The last night came, and the camp paraphernalia was pretty well packed
up. Mr. Bartlett had made arrangements for the wagons to be on hand
early on the following morning to haul the camp material down to the
railroad, where it could be put aboard the same train which Mr. Holwell
had taken, coming along about ten o’clock.
Although they had certainly had a wonderfully fine time of it,
apparently nobody seemed sorry because they were about to start back to
Cliffwood. Home yearnings had commenced to be felt of late, and some
of the boys could hardly wait for the dawn to break. Indeed, the last
night in camp promised to be about as sleepless as the first had been,
judging from their excitement.
All through their stay keen rivalry had continued between those who
were entered for the various prizes. The result would not be known
until Mr. Bartlett and the physical director could have a chance to
count up the scores and announce results. This, of course, served to
keep the interest of the contestants at fever heat.
There was also the interest in the plan aided and abetted by Mr.
Bartlett, who contributed liberally toward raising a certain sum.
This was presented to the genial cook, whose good nature had endured
through the entire stretch of camp life.
Mr. Bartlett made the presentation, heartily applauded by the boys.
“Here’s ten dollars we’ve chipped in, Sunny Jim,” he said to the
astonished cook, whose eyes danced with pleasure. “We want you to buy
the best watch you can find in Cliffwood for the money. Every time you
look at it think of Camp Russabaga. And I voice the sentiments of every
boy here when I say we hope to have you cook for us again next summer.
Give Jim three cheers, lads, for he deserves well of us.”
That was one of the proudest moments of Sunny Jim’s life, though he had
lost his voice apparently, so that he could only stand, nod his woolly
head violently and grin.
We shall hope to meet Dick and his many friends again in the pages of
another volume. That the seed of his prophecy regarding the brightening
of Cliffwood’s skies in the matter of athletic sports among the younger
element was not doomed to fall by the roadside, or among thorns that
would choke it, can be guessed from the title of our next book, which
will be called “The Y. M. C. A. Boys at Football; Or, Lively Doings On
and Off the Gridiron.”
All of the lads were up before daylight on the last morning on Bass
Island. The tents came down and were hastily packed, while breakfast
was being prepared. Indeed, a trip across with both boats had been made
before the campers sat down to the morning meal.
“It’s our last breakfast on Bass Island, boys,” said Mr. Bartlett,
looking around at the circle of eager faces; “and if I know what I’m
talking about we’ll all remember for many a day the great times we’ve
had up here. We hope we shall have good luck in developing and printing
the pictures, because they’ll illustrate our story about the gorilla.
And last, but not least, we’re glad to know that little Josh Jones is
well on the road to recovery. When we get all the stuff over to the
mainland we’ll stand around and give dear old Bass Island one last
jolly cheer. Then it’s home for us. Now hurry and finish, for we ought
to start before long.”
With this last glimpse of the Y. M. C. A. Boys we will draw the curtain
and say good-bye.
THE END
THE Y.M.C.A. BOYS SERIES
By BROOKS HENDERLEY
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.
[Illustration: Y. M. C. A Boys book cover]
This new series relates the doings of a wide-awake boys’ club of the
Y. M. C. A., full of good times and every-day, practical Christianity.
Clean, elevating and full of fun and vigor, books that should be read
by every boy.
THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD
_or The Struggle for the Holwell Prize_
Telling how the boys of Cliffwood were a wild set and how, on
Hallowe’en, they turned the home town topsy-turvy. This led to an
organization of a boys’ department in the local Y. M. C. A. When the
lads realized what was being done for them, they joined in the movement
with vigor and did all they could to help the good cause. To raise
funds they gave a minstrel show and other entertainments, and a number
of them did their best to win a gold medal offered by a local minister
who was greatly interested in the work of upbuilding youthful character.
THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS ON BASS ISLAND
_or The Mystery of Russabaga Camp_
Summer was at hand, and at a meeting of the boys of the Y. M. C. A.
of Cliffwood, it was decided that a regular summer camp should be
instituted. This was located at a beautiful spot on Bass Island, and
there the lads went boating, swimming, fishing and tramping to their
heart’s content. There were a great many surprises, but in the end the
boys managed to clear up a mystery of long standing. Incidentally,
the volume gives a clear insight into the workings of the now justly
popular summer camps of the Y. M. C. A., throughout the United States.
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WHITE RIBBON BOYS SERIES
By RAYMOND SPERRY, Jr.
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid.
[Illustration: White Ribbon Boys book cover]
This new series deals with the great modern movement for temperance.
Clean-cut, up-to-date stories that will please all growing boys and
girls and do them a world of good.
THE WHITE RIBBON BOYS OF CHESTER
_or The Old Tavern Keeper’s Secret_
Chester was a typical factory town with its quota of drinking places.
The father of one of the boys was a foreman in one of the factories,
and he advocated temperance so strongly that some of the men, urged on
by an old tavern keeper, plotted so that he lost his position. One day,
when partly intoxicated, the tavern keeper’s son climbs in a factory
window, smashes things, and is badly burned by acid. He is rescued by
the boys who are advocating temperance, who take him to his mother.
When the tavern keeper sees the condition of his son, he breaks down,
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wins out, and the town of Chester becomes far more prosperous than ever
before.
THE WHITE RIBBON BOYS AT LONG SHORE
_or To the Rescue of Dan Bates_
In this tale the scene is shifted to the seashore, where the boys are
having a vacation for the summer. Encouraged by the temperance work
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SECOND SERIES
(_Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of._)
By CLARENCE YOUNG
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This, the Second Series of the now world famed Motor Boys virtually
starts a new series, but retains all the favorite characters introduced
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selling series of books for boys ever published.
NED, BOB AND JERRY AT BOXWOOD HALL
_or The Motor Boys as Freshmen_
Fresh from their adventures in their automobile, their motor boat
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interrupted education. Some boys at the institution of learning have
heard much about our heroes, and so conclude that the Motor Boys will
try to run everything to suit themselves.
A plot is formed to keep our heroes entirely in the background and not
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unusually interesting reading.
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Transcriber’s Notes
Italicized text is indicated by underscores: _italics_.
Small capitals were changed to all capitals.
Inconsistent word hyphenation has been regularized.
On the title page, the subtitle “The Mystery Russabaga Camp” was
changed to “The Mystery of Russabaga Camp”.
Page 22: “report as the commitee” changed to “report as the committee”.
Page 41: “They seeemed to understand” changed to “They seemed to
understand”.
Page 86: “taking the things that has disappeared” changed to “taking
the things that had disappeared”.
Page 153: “sit around talking maters over” changed to “sit around
talking matters over”.
Page 160: “the boy would would probably have died” was changed to “the
boy would probably have died”.
Page 177: “Every little while somthing” changed to “Every little while
something”.
Page 236: “from Mr. Capes, as has been agreed upon” changed to “from
Mr. Capes, as had been agreed upon”.
Page 237: “the aggregate rereipts” changed to “the aggregate receipts”.