"
"No," I replied honestly, thinking back to that experience.
"Fine!" was the unexpected rejoinder, "I'm going to send you put to the
camp to cook for my lumber-jacks for a few weeks."
"But I said I couldn't cook."
"You know how to turn an egg in the pan? you know enough not to let ham
and bacon burn?... you know water won't scorch, no matter how long it
stands over the fire?...
"You'll make an excellent cook for lumber-jacks ... so long as it's
something to eat that's stuck under their noses, they don't give a
damn!... they're always hungry enough to eat anything ... and can digest
anything....
"Get ready! I'm sending you out on one of the waggons by noon."
* * * * *
Perched on the high seat of the waggon by the side of the driver! The
latter was bundled up to the chin ... wore a fur cap that came down over
the ears ... was felt-booted against the cold ... wore heavy gloves.
It was so cold that the breath of the horses went straight up into the
air like thick, white wool. As we rode by, the passing farmers that were
driving into town almost fell off their seats, startled, and staring at
me. For there I perched ... coatless and hatless ... sockless feet in
sandals ... my shirt flung open, a la Byron, at the neck.
It is true that the mind can do anything. I _thought_ myself into being
composed and comfortable.
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