Читать книгу Roy Blakeley's Roundabout Hike - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 7

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Now I’m going to write another chapter till I have to go to scout meeting. I have to get there at eight o’clock, but if I don’t get there till seven it won’t make any difference. Even if I didn’t get there at all, Pee-wee would be satisfied, but most always he’s never satisfied, especially about eats; say it with eats, that’s his motto. Anyway, this story isn’t about Bridgeboro where I am now; it’s about Temple Camp. Bridgeboro is where I live, it’s a good place to start out from, I’ll say that much for it. Anyway, I’ve had some pretty good fun there. I live in a dandy big house, it’s a two part house, it’s got an inside and an outside and I like the outside best, because it’s bigger—anyway, this story isn’t about Bridgeboro.

So then the four of us decided that as long as we were in a grand mixup together we’d stick together and have a hike the next morning. And that’s what this story is about—that hike. Some hike! The other fellow, the one that had on a bathing suit, was named Egg Sandwich and I guess that’s why Pee-wee wanted him to go. That wasn’t really his name; his name was Egbert Sanderson, but everybody called him Egg Sandwich for short. He comes from Rye, New York, so I guess he’s made of rye bread, but anyway, I like frankfurters better.

I said, “Now we have to hang together separately, because fate has thrown us together.”

“You think you’re smart talking like a book,” Pee-wee said. He was all wet and shivering, jiminies he looked awful funny.

“You’d better go up to your patrol cabin,” I told him, “and get some dry clothes on and we’ll row around and wait for you. You’re shaking all over from head to foot, you remind me of a milk shake and you needn’t ask me if I got shaking all over from head to foot out of a book, because I got it out of an ash barrel.” That kid thinks whenever I use dandy language I got it out of a book. He doesn’t know I’m such a famous author, I’m the only one that knows it, that proves I’m smarter than anybody else, because I know something that nobody else knows. “Go on up, we’ll wait for you,” I said.

I bet you like this story already, hey? But only you just wait, it’s going to be even worse.

So, now, kind of, while we’re waiting for Pee-wee to come back, I’ll tell you about us, because we’re the ones you’re going to be with for a whole lot of chapters—you should worry about Temple Camp. But it’s one dandy place, I’ll say that. They have as many as four hundred Scouts there to say nothing of trustees and scoutmasters—why should I say anything about them? I mind my business and they mind mine. Chocolate Drop, he’s cook, and I mind his business, believe me. Two helpings of dessert—yum, yum!

I’m the patrol leader of the Silver-plated Fox Patrol, First Bridgeboro, New Jersey Troop. We’re solid plated silver and we’re guaranteed for a year. Thank goodness you won’t meet any of that bunch in this story. If you want to know how I look you’ll see my face on the cover of this book and it shows me laughing at Pee-wee. A lot of fellows write to me and want to know all about me so now I guess I’ll tell them. My favorite recreation is jollying Pee-wee. I like schools, I mean a school of perch, and next to roasting Pee-wee I like roast pork. My favorite flower is graham flour and I like graham crackers next to animal crackers and my favorite color is a blackish white. I like the water, but I like root beer better. You can have lots of fun jollying girls. I hope now you’re satisfied.

Pee-wee, like I told you, is in the same troop with me. He lives on Terris Avenue in Bridgeboro. He’s got one mother, one father, one sister and three million appetites. He used to be in the Raving Ravens, then he started the Chipmunks and all that bunch were up at camp when we had this hike, but most of the time Pee-wee doesn’t bother much with his patrol—they’re lucky. Anyway, I guess you know all about Pee-wee and me. If you’re not deaf, dumb and blind, you must know about him. Me, I’m more quiet like a sawmill.

Dub Smedley belongs in Jersey City, it’s right next to a ferry. He belongs to a troop there only his troop wasn’t up in Temple Camp with him. They went somewhere, I don’t know where. He said his scoutmaster was named Redman, so I guess that bunch are a lot of Indians. Dub was a second-hand Scout, I mean second class. He was a nice fellow all right. His favorite outdoor sport is sitting on the ground and moving back and forth and laughing so hard when I jolly Pee-wee, that sometimes he even falls over and rolls on the ground—he laughs so hard. He’s got freckles, that fellow has.

Egg Sandwich was alone at Temple Camp too. He belongs in a troop at Rye in New York. He’s an awful nice fellow, kind of sober like. I asked him if he thought he could be crazy enough to go on one of my hikes and he said yes—he said he was crazy to go.

Pee-wee said, “Sure, you’re crazy to go—anybody that goes is crazy. I’m not, because I’m so used to him I don’t mind him—” he meant me.

“The pleasure is yours and many of them,” I told him. “I take you because I want to do Temple Camp a good turn. I’d like to be here sometime when you’re away to see how it is when you’re not here. If I could be somewhere else when you’re in another place, that’s my idea of the end of a perfect day.”

“Now you hear how he talks!” the kid shouted. I said, “Look out, you’ll tip the boat over.”

“When he talks like that he calls it an argument,” he yelled. “You fellers will see before we get through—you’ll rue the day——”

“Goodness me, such fine language to be using on a week day,” I told him. “I never rued a day yet, but even if I knew how to rue one, I wouldn’t do it.”

“Even before we start he has to talk crazy,” Pee-wee said.

All the while we were rowing around on the lake. I said, “This is my idea—all those not in favor of it, shut up. If two vote against the other two, it’s a majority.”

“For which side?” the kid shouted.

“For both sides,” I told him. “What’s fair for one is fair for the other. United——”

“If you’re going to say, ‘united, we stand, divided we sprawl’ you needn’t say it,” the kid screamed at me. “I heard you say it fifty quadrillion times and it hasn’t got any sense to it!”

I said, “Young Harris, you’re speaking to the leader of the Silver Foxes, modify your tones.”

“I haven’t got any tones,” he yelled, “and——”

“Well, that’s your lookout,” I said. “Are we going to talk about the hike or are we going to discuss it—which? My idea is to start to-morrow just before breakfast——”

“You mean just after breakfast,” Pee-wee said.

Dub said, “No, Roy is right as he usually isn’t That’s a good idea, we’ll start before breakfast.”

“Then you can count me out,” Pee-wee said “and you can’t use my windmeter and you won’t know where you’re going.”

“We don’t want to know where we’re going,” Egg Sandwich said. “The less knowledge we carry with us, the better. Scouts are supposed not to carry a lot of stuff when they go hiking.”

“Right the first time,” I told him. “Ideas are stuff, just the same as any other stuff. Deny it if you dare.”

“Will you answer me a civilized question?” the kid asked me.

“If it’s not too civilized,” I said. “What is it?”

“Why do we have to go on a hike without eating breakfast?”

“I never said we did,” I told him. “Wrong the first time. I said we’d start before breakfast—from my patrol cabin. Then we’ll stop in the eats pavilion for breakfast.”

He said, “Oh.”

“Then we’ll go out in front of Administration Shack and hold the windmeter up and see which way the wind is blowing if any and if so, why not. Am I right? Do you follow me?”

“We’re way ahead of you,” Dub said.

“Then we’ll all raise our hands and make a solemn vow——”

“There you go with your solemn vows,” the kid shouted. “That means we won’t have anything to eat all day, I know.”

I said, “Your leader would like to have a large chunk of silence and very little of that. We are going to go whichever way the wind blows, north, south, east, west——”

“Hither,” said Dub.

“Thither,” said Egg Sandwich.

“Or yon,” I said. “It’s settled. The rules will be very simple. We’ll go where the wind goes. We’ll return when we get back. We won’t take anything with us, not even any ideas. The only excess baggage that we carry will be Pee-wee.”

Dub said, “The object of the expedition is to find out where the wind goes—to stalk it.”

I said, “Sure, and to find out what it does when it gets there and if so where. Am I right?”

“Absolutely, unanimously,” said Egg Sandwich.