saucer, for the simple reason that we have no earthly use for it in
camp. We take tin mugs with sloping sides and wire bucket handles.
They fit into one another in the same accommodating way as the eating
dishes. Gertrude was nearly put off this device altogether by Basil's
remark that he had only seen them in use in poulterers' shops, where
they are put under hares' noses....

"Basil, you, you monster," cried Gertrude, and I had to push those tin
mugs as though I had been a traveller interested in the sale of them.

The drinking of hot tea out of these mugs is quite a beautiful art.
You hold the wire handle between finger and thumb and put the little
finger at the edge of the bottom rim. It is thus able to tilt the mug
to the exact angle which is most convenient for drinking. When
Gertrude had learnt the trick, she became perfectly enamoured of the
mugs. She sometimes brings one out at ordinary afternoon tea and
insists that the tea is ever so much better drunk thus than out of
spode.

Smaller mugs of the same shape do for egg-cups, and the egg-spoons I
take to camp are the bone ones, seldom asked for but easy to get in
most oil-and-colour shops. Dessert spoons and forks and table knives
are of the usual pattern, but the former can be had in aluminium and
therefore much lighter than Britannia metal.

The camping-out valise is by all means the rucksack. Never the
knapsack. I am almost ashamed to say this, because as far as my
knowledge goes the knapsack is now obsolete. It may be, however, that
it lingers here and there. If you see one, buy it for a museum if you
like but not for use. The bundle should be allowed to fit itself to