We had
them everywhere--in the hut, in the tent, at the table, on the lake, in
the woods. No smudge or lotion discourages them; oil of tar is their
delight, camphor they revel in; buzzing, singing, biting continually
are their pastime. They are a galling curse--a nuisance which no words
can describe. A lady _might_ go through all this if she had perfect
health and the endurance under punishment of a prize-fighter. Your
party may travel all those weary miles and strike a fortunate week of
pleasant weather, but you may, and more likely will, have a week when
it will rain dismally straight through without stopping. We found, on
looking up the statistics, that in an average season out of every
twenty-two days eighteen will always be stormy, lowering and dismal.
No, don't camp out unless you can make up your mind beforehand to every
kind of discomfort and inconvenience to mar all that is beautiful and
all that is pleasing. I speak of course of the localities I have known
in my three several attempts. _They say_ it is different in other parts
of the region. But when you have plank roads and first-class hotels and
all the modern conveniences, I don't call that going into the woods and
camping out.
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