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Aldridge, Janet

"The Missing Pilot of the White Mountains"

What there was
seemed the best ever served to a company of hungry girls.
Supper over, it was not many minutes before the girls sought their
beds. They were more tired than at any time on their journey, for this
had been a day long to be remembered, the fifteenth. They would post
it up in their rooms to look at every day through the winter and think
of the excitement, the peril and the joys that marked that day of their
vacation.
The girls rolled themselves in their blankets, Indian fashion, as
before mentioned. They were beginning to enjoy this way of sleeping,
wrapped up like mummies, feeling warm and comfortable in the soft
blankets. No one who has not tried this method of sleeping in the open
in cool weather can have the slightest idea of the blissfulness of it.
Of course, if there are insects they will find one. There were insects
on Chocorua and they found the Meadow-Brook Girls, creeping over their
faces, getting into their hair, but failing to find their way under the
tightly rolled blankets. The girls were as wholly oblivious to the
insects as to the chattering squirrels that leaped from one rolled
figure to another, then off up the rocks, only to return again and take
up their game of "leap" over the sleeping Meadow-Brook Girls.


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