Remembering the tree-shelters of our elders, we set to work to make one for ourselves.

We built the framework of a rough nest, and on higher forks overhead even got in several ridge-poles for the roof.

Then the sun came out, and under its benign influence we forgot the hardships of the night and went off in search of breakfast.

After that, to show the inconsequentiality of life in those days, we fell to playing.

It must have taken us all of a month, working intermittently, to make our tree-house; and then, when it was completed, we never used it again.
But I run ahead of my story.