Los Angeles herald., 1892-09-04
OUR PET GIRL IN CAMP.
Outdoor Amusements for the
Young Women.
A Young Girls Dreams on Bed Of
Pine BOughs.
The Solitude of the Forest as an Incen--
tive to Pleasant Dreams-Rough
Fare, Pure Water and Sound
Sleep as Cardinal Elements.

Fare, Pure Water and Sound
Sleep as Cardinal Elements.
Miss Pauline johnson, who contrib
utes to Outing, the ladies' portion of
that delightful magazine for young peo-
pie, is one OF the sort of writer's who,
while never very deep, are always pleas
ing in what they have to cay. She pic
lures summer camp of ladies-no gem
tlemen need apply-in very good shape.
She has fervent love of nature, or she
could not write as she does. Her eyes
seems to behold some new beauty in
every gnarled oak or tapering pine.
| Whispered to by the myriad tongues of
the silent forest, her buoyant spirit goes
out in full harmony with the ripple of
the mountain brook or the soughing
voice of the rustling oak. Here is what
she had to say in recent issue of that
magazine concerning the good times
that young ladies have when they go
out for camp in the woods, with the
song of the lark for breakfast bell:
There is something indescribably fas-
cinating about sleeping under canvas.
In vain the comfort-loving relation an
nually tells the camping girl how infin-
itely more satisfactory is hotel luxury:
in vain does her timid, hot house flower
OF bosom friend declare her horror of
possible snakes invading the tent, and
probable thunder-storms shatteriDg the
trail shelter in the dead of night. The
| girl who has once been seized with the
canvas craze never quite recovera
| from the attack. When July
w oil
August, she is quite impatient for
the camping party to cali the inevi-
table meeting" at which they are
supposed to discuss business affairs and
arrange for the summers outing, but
which really is a buriesque converse
| zione, where one tells Of all the old
| clothes, shoes. ''coW's breakfasts" and
| the one very effective new flannel suit
she is going to wear in the woods, until
finally that ever genial, agreeable no
Dentity, the chaperon's husband, calls
the house to order, and. with note book
in hand, demands in business tones
what each girl will take.
Bacon !" shouts some one. Every
one take a side of bacon-then we won't
run out of itW The argument ia strong,
and the old camping girl says she will
take the said side OF bacon. some oat-
meal, six cans of packed meats. tea, cam
dies, stretcher and two blankets. The
next would.be gypsy supplements this
list with more blankete, sugar, pickles,
soap, hardtack and a kit of tins, and
the boys conclude it with canoes, tents.
dunnage bags, flour, butter, more bacon.
more blankets and more odds and ends.
The complete outfit reached dimensions
undreamt of until viewed by group of
sleepy, emigrantish-looking folk, who
watched the canoes and hampers being
packed away in the baggage car at chill
dawn. They thought somewhat sadly
OF that half eaten breakfast they left on
the dainty table at home, their last civil
lized meal for many day. But they
troubled little about culture, art or lux
ury when at last, with canvas stretched
and bonfire blazing, they gathered for
that first evening meal with appetitea
| that the much abused ostrich might
envy.
The tin coffee-pot may have all the
ashes of thousand campfies clinging
to its smoky sides; the butter may be
| garnished with myriads of brown pine
needles; the marmaiade may be exca-
waited from it's primitive wiIe-mouthed
glass bottle by means of a steel knife
blade; the canned beef may be warm
and shapeless, the slices of bread ragged
and huge; but ah, the deliciousness SIS of
it all, out under the giant forest
trees. with the wide, blue lake
sleeping in the sunset at ones
feet, and the shy wild fowl skirting the
marshes on the farther side, and start
ling the twilight silence with their
strange, melancholy cries Our ladies'
have no regret for comforts left at home,
no desire for dainty china and French
cooking, for Dig leather dining room
chairs, and the maid, white-capped and
ssoft-slippered, to wait upon them-not a
| bit of it.
People talk of delicate, appetizing
luncheonH and teas, but for a good,
strong, not-to-be-trifed-with appetizer,
| give the camping girl an afternoons
paddle, fishing or excurting through
the forest with cousin Hal. Then let
them catch sight of the big blazing
logs, at the side of which tea brews and
coffee steams, and on the top of which
the long-handled, ungainly frying. pan
rests, inclosing in it's grimy circumfer-
ence generous supply OF bacon, and
the fragrant exhalations from the yicin-
ity OF that 1mprovised cooking-range
will discount the aroma of fir trees and
wild mosses, and fresh land breezes in
the nostrils of those two young nomada
| aDOuC as rapidly aa their feet fly over
the last hundred yards between them
and their temporary home; and
after tea, when her young, healthy
hunger has been appeaaed, when the
boys pile immense dry logs on the fire,
and the flames leap up and lick the
! gloom and shadows with their red
tongues; when the lake grows weirdly
wide end shorelese, and the dark sky
deepens into an ebon velvet because of
q star a-winking here and there through
the trees, whose ragged trunks seem to
swing and sway to the freight that
plays upon their bark and MOSES with
ever-restless redness, then only comes
the serenity OF calm languor born of
robust strength we'll exercised.
Our gypsy girls can be back on the
bald gray rocks with their scant growth
OF wild grass and lichen; lie with hands
clasped under heads which rest ON
thin, hard canoe cushions, lie with
half-closed, dreamy eyes that watch the
grotesque beauty of the camp ecene by
nighttime, or join the rollicking
songs and chorus, the laughter and
banter that toss about the haTesidde. Now
4 and again sound the far-oG calls Of
herons wilging their late passage
through the night, and from boioW