How careful one is in the city about covering up the body quickly for fear of taking cold! Out here the greatest pleasure is after the swim to be in the air and let the sun and wind dry and toughen one. No chill, no cold, just a pleasant glow. Any boy who does this day after day cannot take a cold if he tried to all winter. He is immune from the nasty colds that beset one in this changeable climate.
Is it any wonder that the boys love to be in Camp, where they can strip and get close to Nature?
I have often wondered what Heaven is like, and think it must at least have most beautiful rivers, and flowing streams, where one can bathe.
That is my idea of what Paradise ought to be. Of course, there could be a whole lot of things up there that we have wanted so badly on this earth and could not get, yet for me, the blessed privilege of bathing and swimming in waters pure is celestial.
Maybe the Lord in His goodness took a little bit out of Heaven and planted it in the State of Maine. For where will you go, in this country, outside of that State, and find such a harmonious blending of climate, temperature, water, land, sky and sea as we find there?
But while I am rhapsodizing on the beauties of this State, let me not forget that time flies, and again the bugle sounds the call, "All out."
This time the boys are willing to dress quietly, and spend the next hour resting up after the many duties and pleasures of the day.
There is only a short period between the time we leave the water and the call for supper. When the first call sounds every boy jumps up without a second invitation from the faculty to get into line.
The signal is again given. The line turns right about face, marches to the stirring music of fife and drum, keeping time and forming one of the pleasantest sights we have to show to our visitors.
After supper sometimes the porch is cleared for a friendly boxing match or wrestling bout. The boys are chosen who in size and strength are pretty well matched.
There is a well-padded mat, and if the wrestlers stand up first they are stripped. The referee reads the rules to them. They are cautioned against any foul or losing their tempers, and then, at the signal, turned loose.
Do they wrestle? Do they tussle? Do they struggle with might and main to put one another down? You try to find out whether they are wrestling according to Graeco-Roman methods or catch-as-catch-can, and decide it must be a mixture of both. After a spirited round time is called. Each of them goes to his corner to be fanned in a strictly professional way by his secon
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