The rest of the Alley rushed down upon the dock and dragged the victorious crew up out of the Dolphin as she came up alongside of the dock, and lifting them to their shoulders carried them to shore in a triumphal procession, with waving banners, and ear splitting cheers, and songs which excess of emotion rendered slightly off key. Bengal was brought over and given a separate ovation for having so nobly sacrificed herself for the cause of the Alley; Agony also came in for a great deal of extra cheering because she had acted so promptly when she lost her paddle, and Sahwah—well, Sahwah was the Captain, and when did the Captain of a victorious crew ever suffer neglect from the side he represented?
Until Taps sounded that night the Alley celebrated its victory, and the last thing they did for joy was to carry all the beds out of the tents and set them in one long row in the Alley, and when Miss Judy went the last rounds there they lay, all linked together arm in arm, smiling one long smile which reached from one end of the Alley to the other.
THE BUFFALO ROBE
“Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!”
The familiar lines slipped softly from Miss Amesbury’s lips as she leaned luxuriously against the canoe cushions, watching the vivid glows of the sunset. It was the hour after supper, when the Camp girls were free to do as they pleased, and Agony and Miss Amesbury had come out for a quiet paddle on the river. The excitement of Regatta Day had subsided, and Camp was jogging peacefully toward its close. Only a few more days and then the Carribou would come and take away the merry, frolicking campers, and the Alley and the Avenue alike would know desolation.
All over there were signs that told summer was drawing to a close. The fields were gay with goldenrod and wild asters, the swamp maples had begun to flame in the woods, and there was a crisp tang in the air that sent the blood racing in the veins like a draught of strong, new wine. All these things, as well as the westward shifting of the summer constellations, which a month before had reigned supreme on the meridian, told that the summer was drawing to an end.
Never had the friends at Camp seemed so jolly and dear as in this last week when the days together were numbered, and every sunrise brought them one degree nearer the parting. Everyone was filled with the desire to make the most of these last few days; there was a frantic scramble to do the things that had been talked of all summer, but which had been crowded out by other things, and especially there was a busy taking of pictures of favorite councilors and best friends. Pom-pom, Miss Judy, Tiny Armstrong and the Lone Wolf could be seen at almost any hour of the day “looking pleasant” while some girl snapped their pictures.
“If anyone else asks me to pose for a picture today I shall explode!” declared Tiny Armstrong at last. “I’ve stood in the sun until I’m burned to a cinder, and I’ve ‘looked pleasant’ until my face aches. I’m going on a strike!”