the lake the other night that he'd like to own a canoe, so we're going to give him ours when we go away next week."
"Oh, boy!" I said. Then I just happened to think to say, Did you hear all he shouted out on the lake? Because," I said, "he's kind of―kind of freakish, sometimes."
"He's a little wonder, that's what he is," he said.
When we got to the tepee, Mr. Ellsworth jumped up and shook hands with him and gaid, "Glad to see you, sit down. Sit down too, Roy."
So we both sat down on the bench, and I don't know, it seemed to me as if the fellow was sort of uncomfortable, as if he'd rather I wouldn't be there. But he didn't say anything about it.
Mr. Ellsworth said, "Your friend had a very narrow escape. Canoes are bad things in storms. You should be careful." And then he gave him some mighty good advice in that nice way he has.
The camping fellow said he'd come to thank the little fellow, that's what he called him, and to tell Mr. Ellsworth how they both felt about it. He said they'd never forget about it, and he wanted to know if there was anything they could do.
