The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1882-10-06
The Picnic.

If you want to be happy, 90 to q pic
mic. Go in an express wagon; 20 in 9
crowd. In the front end of the wagon
have lunch baskets, pickle jars, ice, etc
Ride ten or twelve miles to the picnic
grounds. The seats of the wagon are
narrow, hard and shaky. The day is
hot; the flies are thick; the road il
dusty. Each passing team sends volumes
OF dust among the picnickers. At first
the holiday-makers are gay and polite,
but the long jolting seemed to shake up
their peevish thoughts to the top, like
the biggest peas in basket, and long be-
lore the end of the ride conversation
drops to How much further is it" and
20, wish we were there" At noon
the grounds are reached, and the pic
nickers are glad to alight and rest their
aching bones The grounds are in ga
woods" Two or three picnic parties are
there already. In fact, the woods are
dusty WITH the. trampling of innumer-
able picnic No wild flowers, ferns or
brakes are in those woods; nothing but q
few weeds and a little scanty grass
However, there are incredible quantities
of old dinner-papers, egg-shells, bottles.
tin cans OF every species, rags, crumbs,
crusts and chicken bones scattered about,
and there are myriads of lively bugs and
beetles racing everywhere, eating the
crumbs. The picnic begins with dinner.
You sit on a narrow, wiggling board, at
low table made of boards. Knives and
forks and cups are scarce; therefore much
gnawing of greasy bones takes place, and
much passing thick teacup, filled with
lukewarm, smoky tea. Each offers his
own, and gingerly partakes of his neigh
boris provisions. Glory is in the heart
of the lady, who brought cocoanut cake
and three kinds of fine sandwiches; envy
in the heart of her who hurried off with
nothing but bakers bread, cheese, sar-
dimes and dried beef. Having feasted to
repletion with crumbly frosted cake and
smashed jelly cake, the picnickers pro-
coed to row themselves about in boats
The stream at the picnic grounds runs so
that the sun beats down upon it all the
afternoon. The water is rather muddy.
and those who attempt to row in the
shade of the boughs on, the shore smear the
girls hats with the dripping leaves of
trees and bushes. The rOwers toll in
midstream with blistering hands, and
reeking faces. The girls frizzes string
out and their muslins grow limp and
damp. By and by a shower comes up.
ALL take to the wagon and sit there,
damp and bedraggled. One belated in
dividual struggles under the table,
crouching among bugs and crumbs. The
shower being soon over, back to the boats
they 90. That shower only makes the
heat sticky. The fork of the stream be-
comes a toasting-fork. Can't say which
you long for most, to get out of the hot
woods into the boats, or to get back to the
woods from the glistening, flaring stream.
The low afternoon sun shines straight
into the woods. People have to stand
behind ree-trunks to obtain shade. Sup
per time comes at last, bringing repeti-
ton of dinner, except that the cake is
little crumbier, the sandwiches little
staler, and the evening sunshine pours
across the table and feasters. Then fol-
lows the long ride home by moonlight,
mostly in silence broken by a few dull
and little singing. The
children are asleep, and melancholy
thoughts arise as to the paucity of
human pleasures and the strangeness of
calling a picnic one of them. But you
Ire ever after happy because you do not
nave to 60 to another picnic.-Indian.
1poliS Journal.