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186
THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP.
"I have already gotten some splendid pictures," returned Powell, who possessed a good snap-shot camera, now lying on the stern seat of the boat. "I'm going to take some more pictures to-day."
On the way to the upper end of the lake Sam did a little fishing and brought in one bass of fair size.
"This makes a fellow feel like a true poet," murmured Powell, gazing dreamily at the water, and then he went on:
"I love to glide,
By the green-clad side
Of the glassy lake,
And there to take
My ease with book
Or line and hook,
And spend the day
Far, far away
From care and toil,
On Nature's soil."
"Just to listen to Songbird!" cried Tom. "He grinds it out like a regular sausage-making machine," and then he went on gayly:
"I love to swim,
In Nature's soil,
By the green-clad side,
Of a mountain wide,
And there to bake,
My little toes,
On a garden rose,
And take a hose,
In Nature's soil,
By the green-clad side,
Of a mountain wide,
And there to bake,
My little toes,
On a garden rose,
And take a hose,
