To tell of all the things that these six had been doing during the eight
weeks of their stay would be to write a history in several volumes. They
had had innumerable games of tennis and croquet; had fished along the
banks of streams; helped in the harvest field; taken straw-rides by
moonlight; traveled many scores of miles on bicycles; taken photographs
good and bad; gone out with picnic parties; learned to churn and to work
butter; picked apples and eaten them, and they had plenty of energy left
still.
The climax of their enjoyment was reached on the very last day of their
visit. Mr. Hobart had promised to take them for a day's fishing on a
lake about ten miles distant from his house. On this fair September day
he redeemed his promise. A jolly load set out in the gray of the early
morning, equipped with poles, lines, bait, and provisions enough for the
day. Having no other way to give vent to their spirits, they sang
college songs all along the road. Of course, they surprised many an
early riser by their vigorous rendering of familiar airs. Even cows and
chickens and horses and pigs gazed at them with wondering eyes, as if to
say, "Who are these noisy fellows, disturbing our morning meditations?"
As the boys approached the lake they saw a strange-looking object on the
water. What it might be they could not for a while decide. Certainly it
was not a boat, and what else could be floating so calmly several feet
out from the land?
At length their strained eyes solved the mystery.
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