PASSAGE OF TIME: Three weeks from tonight is the final banquet to which all invited. We plan to repeat the chicken barbecue of last year. Cards for your reply and the travel plans for your sons will go with the Home Letter of next week, August 9th. More travel More travel detail will appear in that publication. To forstall questions by the more prudent parents, we are going to leave Fort Plain at 5:37 a.m standard time to arrive in New York at 10:55 a.m., still on standard time, on Tuesday morning August 24th. We will catch the next possible Pennsylvania train for the south. Details will follow as advertised.
AQUATIC ADVANCE: All boys who were with us the first month passed at least the “E” swimming test. On our present list are three non-swimmers and six who have passed the “E” test. This week has seen Hester, Manson and Robinson pass the “E” test, while the “D” barrier has fallen before Deford and Whitman. The following have passed their Junior Life Saving course and will be awarded the consequent insignia and certificates; Black, Camp, R., Donahoe, G. Cochran, W. McManus, C. McManus, Spilman, Boyce, Morrill, Murphy, Heuisler, Whitehead. A new class is in process of formation.
JULY’S LAST MONDAY: This sunny day, soothed by some wind, revealed Hyde Bay in a state of upheaval. Boys were coming in, boys were about to go out, otherwise happy boys infected by the virus of travel became transiently lachrymose. In short, the half—way mark was upon us. We rallied sufficiently to send off a trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame and to indulge in much water-skiing. The day culminated in the next paragraph.
BARBEQUE: The festivities prophesied in our last edition came to pass. A numerous crowd of parents, guests and campers enjoyed the delicious beef which emerged from the hole in the ground, vastly benefited by its underground residence, As far as we know, everyone had enough.
THEN TUESDAY: It was clear, hot and windy. The change—over broke upon us with all its majestic violence. Some wept because they were leaving, others because they were staying, but with the happy volatility of youth, smiles soon emerged and nightfall took place just as usual. Councilor John Webster departed to be succeeded by old camper, John Hinckley, now emerged from college and a welcome addition to our Hyde Bay family.
MOIST WEDNESDAY: This day yes featured by sailing and a few showers. It wasn’t really a bad day, just different. At night we followed the fortunes of certain singing cowboys in a film known as “Cattletown”. It was well received.
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FOGGY THURSDAY: When we arose, it seemed that a U.L. or other irresponsible person had mislaid the other side of the lake. One could hardly see even to the tower. It presently burned off to be succeeded late in the afternoon by a heavy down—pour of welcome rain. Welcome, that is, to all but Heb and his flotilla on their way around the lake. The Hacker had to go out on two trips and bring in both crews and canoes. It all added to the excitement of the voyage. The afternoon heard Strawberry Mountain echo to the bang—bang of an intra-camp war. A splendid illustration of the educational effect of the cinema. The survivors straggled down just ahead of the storm.
FRIDAY: It was a warm and cloudy morning. We sent many trips to the baseball museum while the weather threatened. There was much sailing this day. Harry Bowdoin took his tent to Gravelly in the late afternoon. Sometime later the older boys went out to enjoy the movie in town. Quiet, the contemporary of bedtime, sottled down with the dusk. We paused to reflect that we now had 104 boys in camp.
POOL: One day this week we took the less developed natators to the Alfred Corning Clark gymnasium pool in town because our local conditions were not too favorable to swimming.
A DAY OF STRANGE PORTENTS: It was humid, a rare condition at this 1200 feet altitude. There was a thunder shower during lunch. The Commodore followed a spate of telegrams into camp in his minute Nash. Rochester parents in prodigious numbers enlivened our existence. Most horrendous phenomenon of all, the Chief and Mrs. Chandlee left camp for the weekend. That we survived all these goings on is eloquently attested by this epistle.
THE DRAMA: The fourth cycle of tent plays proved to be a remarkable experience. Heb and his tent #18 inmates out—did all previous productions in elaborate Belascolike stage properties. There was a bathtub and a bathed beauty, a fountain right on the stage, magnificent costumes and a sombre creaking of a rack. Nevertheless, the judges awarded the candy to tent #13, where “Killer Moose” Eastabrooks was the star of a wild western drama. Not far behind in popular appeal was Mouldy City’s Paris scene, featuring the seductive Sandy and his Parisian disreputables; as well as the offering of Tent #16 where mountain life, replete with stills, revenuers and an apparition labeled “Demon Rum” made a strong bid for the candy bars.
VISITING PROFESSIONAL: A windy, cloudy and clearing Sunday found old camper Herb, Jr. Pickett preaching to an audience which included many parents. Then Bob Pickett, pinch-inspecting for Chiefie, put the camp under his microscope. Little leage softball started up in the afternoon under the aegis of coach Powe11. Tents #7 and #12 sent off to Cooperstown in the Land Hacker as the lake was a bit rough for the other craft. It was of course the reward for a week of immaculate tent condition. Two excellent movies rounded out the evening.
MORNING MADNESS: For weeks, nay, for years, Mrs. Pickett has been the only one to indulge in the morning plunge from our deck. Of late, there has suddenly developed a mania for this form of self discipline. The nucleous seems to be a group of hardy Harvard pioneers. Some boys may he found also in this fringe.