funny,
in Peace, to think of such things?"

CHAPTER IX

CAMPING OUT

Do you remember Mr. Gough's famous story of the orator who, with a great
flourish of rhetoric as prelude, announced to his audience the startling
fact that there was a "gre--at difference in people?" On the strength of
this original statement, it has been supposed that there were a variety of
tastes to be suited in selecting for the readers of "Gypsy Breynton" the
most entertaining passages of this one summer in her life. The last two
chapters were for the quiet young people. This one is for the lively young
people--the people who like to live out of doors, and have adventures, and
get into difficulties, and get over them. The quiet people aforesaid need
not read it, if they don't want to.

Did you ever "camp out"?

If you ever did, or ever very much wanted to, you will know how Gypsy felt
one morning after her summer vacation had begun, and she was wondering
what she should do with herself all day, when Tom came into her room and
said,--

"Gypsy, don't you wish you were a boy? I'm going to spend a week at
Ripton, with Hallam."

"Mr. Hallam!" exclaimed Gypsy. Mr. Guy Hallam was a lawyer about thirty
years old; but Tom had the natural boy's feeling about "mistering" any
one, that he had gone on fishing excursions with, ever since he could
remember; while Gypsy was more respectful.

"Ripton!" said Gypsy, again; "Oh, dear me!"

"And going to camp out and have a fire, and cook our trout, and shoot our
rabbits," said Tom, with an aggravating appearance of indifference, as if
these were only a specimen of innumerable delights unmentioned.

"Oh, dear _me_!" said Gypsy, with a long sigh.

"There are several disadvantages in being a girl, my dear, as you will
find out, occasionally," said Tom, with a lordly air.

"Girls are just as good as boys!" answered Gypsy, flashing up.

"Only they can't camp out."

"I'm not so sure of that, sir."

"Indeed!"

"Girls do camp out; I've heard about it; parties of ladies and gentlemen
go out up on the Adirondacks. You might take Sarah Rowe and me."

Tom smiled a very superior smile.

"Come, Tom, do--there's a good fellow!"

"Take along a couple of girls that can't fish, and scream when you shoot a
squirrel, and are always having headaches, and spraining their ankles, and
afraid to be left alone? No, thank you!"

"I can fish, and I'm no more afraid to be left alone than you are!" said
Gypsy, i