"Now," said he, "if I were you, I'd do nothing of the kind. You
have been working too hard; your face shows it. You need rest and
change. Nothing will do you so much good as to camp out; that will
be fifty times better than going to any summer resort. You can
take your wife with you. I know she'll like it. I don't care
where you go so that it's a healthy spot. Get a good tent and an
outfit, be off to the woods, and forget all about business and
domestic matters for a few weeks."

This sounded splendid, and I propounded the plan to Euphemia that
evening. She thought very well of it, and was sure we could do it.
Pomona would not be afraid to remain in the house, under the
protection of Lord Edward, and she could easily attend to the cow
and the chickens. It would be a holiday for her too. Old John,
the man who occasionally worked for us, would come up sometimes and
see after things. With her customary dexterity Euphemia swept away
every obstacle to the plan, and all was settled before we went to
bed.

As my wife had presumed, Pomona made no objections to remaining in
charge of the house. The scheme pleased her greatly. So far, so
good. I called that day on a friend who was in the habit of
camping out to talk to him about getting a tent and the necessary
"traps" for a life in the woods. He proved perfectly competent to
furnish advice and everything else. He offered to lend me all I
needed. He had a complete outfit; had done with them for the year,
and I was perfectly welcome. Here was rare luck. He gave me a
tent, camp-stove, dishes, pots, gun, fishing-tackle, a big canvas
coat with dozens of pockets riveted on it, a canvas hat, rods,