Little Journeys To the Homes of the Great, Volume 3 (of 14)

by Elbert Hubbard
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nightmare for months to come. After that we decided to keep to the hills
and woods. This necessitated a hut. But we had no lumber with which to
build it.

However, there were three houses going up in town--and surely they could
spare a few boards. So after dark we got out old Juliet and the
spring-wagon and made several visits to the new houses. The result was
that in about a week we had enough lumber to frame the cabin.

Our site was about three miles from town, high up on the Adams Farm. After
many evening trips with the old mare and much figuring we had the thing
done, all but the windows, door, and shingles on the roof. Well, I knew
where there was an old door and two window-sash taken off our
chicken-house to let in the air during Summer. And one rainy night three
bunches of shingles found their way from Perkins' lumber-yard to the foot
of the hill on the Adams Farm.

In another five days the place was finished. It was ten by sixteen, and
had four bunks, two windows, a paneled front door, a back entrance and a
porch--altogether a rather pretentious camp for a gang of young ruffians.

But it was a labor of love, and we certainly had worked mighty hard. Our
love was given particularly to the three house-builders and to Perkins,
down in town.

Of course we had to have a stove.

This we got from Bowen's hardware-store for two dollars and forty cents.
He wanted four dollars, and we argued for some time. The stove was a
secondhand one and good only for scrap-iron anyway. Scrap was worth fifty
cents a hundred, and this stove weighed only two hundred fifty, so we
convinced the man our offer was big. At that we made him throw in a
frying-pan.

For dishes and cutlery, I believe each of our mothers' pantries
contributed. Then a stock of grub was confiscated. The storeroom in the
Phalansterie furnished Heinz beans, chutney, and a few others of the
fifty-seven. John had run an ad in "The Philistine" for Heinz and taken
good stuff in exchange.

For four years after that, this old camp was kept stocked with eats all
the time. We would hike out Friday after school and stay till Sunday
night. At Christmas-time we would spend the week's vacation there.

Many times had I tried to get my Father to go out and stay overnight. But
he wouldn't go. One time, though, I did not come home when I had promised,
so Father rode out on Garnett to find me. Instead of my coming back with
him he just unsaddled and turned Garnett loose in the woods and stayed
overnight.

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