Camping Out

These are the days of boat and camp

Of whisp’ring pine and crude oil lamp;

Of knots, mosquitoes, thorns and briars,

Of campfire idlers, drones and liars,

Of fleecy clouds and waters blue,

Of drizzly days and bright ones too,

Of happy journeys, others though –

But camping out – ah, that’s enough!

Who wouldn’t stand a sleepless night,

The hoot-owl’s cry, and skeeter bite,

The rocky trail, the matches wet,

The hero’s tale or camp quartette,

If we can only fish the while,

And loiter ‘neath Dame Nature’s smile?

At home we dodge the life that’s rough,

But camping out - Ah, that’s the stuff!

May 20, 1918

Sent N.Y. Sun

May 21, 1913

North End of Kezar Lake from Cone camp
N.Lovell Maine