It was one of those hot drowsy days in July. School had been closed two weeks, and Dean and Gordon Rand were already wondering how they could ever spend the rest of the long vacation in their little home in the city of Boston.

To be sure there were plenty of books filled with charming stories of brooks and pine woods; but reading only made the boys wish they might go to the real country instead of sitting at home in a hot stuffy house, reading about it in a story-book.

One night the two brothers went as usual to meet their father when he came home from work. His tired face wore a happy smile, and they knew at once that something pleasant had happened.

"What is it, Father? Do tell us!" the boys cried in one voice. Their faces were so eager that it was really hard for Mr. Rand to say, "Wait, my boys, until we reach home. Then your mother can share the good news with us."

Mrs. Rand was looking out of the window as the boys danced up the front walk, each holding one of their father's hands. They pulled him along in their haste to hear the news, and she, too, guessed that something pleasant had happened.

Father said that boys couldn't half enjoy good news with dirty hands and faces, so it was not until soap and water had made them clean and shining that he took from his pocket a letter from good jolly Uncle Joe who lived among the hills of Vermont.

"Here is your news," he said. "I will read aloud the part of the letter that will interest you. Now, listen! Uncle Joe says: 'Why not let those boys of yours come up and go camping with me this summer? I am going to pitch my tent in the woods near Silver Lake, and I expect to have good fishing and hunting. Send the youngsters along as soon as they are ready. I will take care of them, and give them a rollicking good time.'"

The boys were so delighted that they could hardly wait for Mother to get their clothes ready, and for Father to write to Uncle Joe and tell him when and where to meet them.

At last the day arrived when they were to take the train for Vermont. Their trunk was carefully packed, and they were as clean and fresh as Mother's loving hands could make them.

It was a long ride, but there was so much to see every minute that the time passed quickly. At noon they opened the box of lunch Mother had put up for them. When they saw the sandwiches and the little cakes and apple turnovers, there was a lump in their throats for a few minutes.

The conductor came along just then, to tell them they were crossing the Connecticut, and in their eagerness to catch their first glimpse of the great river they forgot all about being homesick.

Uncle Joe met them at the station. He gave them each a hearty hand-shake and a big hug. Then he lifted them up on the seat of a wagon, and put their trunk in behind, with ever so many other boxes and bundles.

It was not far to the shore of the little lake. Uncle Joe soon had all the provisions stowed away in a large flat-bottomed boat, and it did not take long to row across to the tents on the opposite side.

Do you suppose a supper ever tasted better to hungry boys than that one of fried trout just caught from the lake, with bread and butter, and fresh berries and cream? Uncle Joe served them generously, too,—just as if he knew all about a boy's appetite!

After supper they were so tired with all the excitement of the day that they were content to sit quietly on the little sandy beach, watching the sunset and the changing colors in the clouds. There were lovely shadows on the purple hills, and dim reflections of the trees and sky in the smooth surface of the lake. How much better it was than all the noise and confusion of the city streets!

It was not long before the boys were sleepy, and Uncle Joe went with them to see that everything was all right in their tent. When they saw the bed they were a little uncertain as to whether they would like it. It was nothing but a great heap of fir-balsam boughs, covered over with two heavy blankets, and it didn't look very comfortable; but when they had tried it a few moments the boys pronounced it the softest, sweetest bed they ever slept in.Morning found them rested and ready for camp life. Uncle Joe took them out fishing, and let them row the boat home. Then they put on their bathing suits and he gave them a swimming-lesson. After dinner they went for a long walk and he taught them to watch for birds and squirrels.

They had never dreamed that the woods could be half so interesting, or hold so many different things. They enjoyed every minute of the day; and the next day, and the next, it was just the same. They never had to stop and ask, "What shall we do now?" There was always something to do, even before they had time to do it.

They met several other boys, about their own age, who were living in a camp farther up the lake. These boys often joined them in their picnics and excursions, and the time was too short for all they found to do.But they did one thing that came very near spoiling the fun of that happy vacation in the woods.

One night Uncle Joe stayed out fishing a little later than usual, leaving his nephews alone in the camp. The other boys came down to visit them, and one of them suggested that it would be great fun to build a camp-fire.

Dean, who was always a cautious lad, feared it was not just the right thing to do, without his uncle's permission; but at last he gave in to the other boys.

Broken boughs and bark were quickly piled up, a match was lighted to kindle the fire, and in a few minutes the flames were leaping over the dry wood. The boys were delighted with their bonfire, and they ran here and there among the trees collecting more fuel for the flames.

Suddenly they began to realize that the fire was spreading. It had run along through the dry grass and pine needles, and the wind was blowing it straight toward the woods, where they had had so many good times, and where their friends the birds and squirrels had their homes.

At first the boys thought they could put out the fire with pails of water; but they soon saw that it was beyond their control, and they stood still, too frightened to do anything but scream.

Their cries brought Uncle Joe, and some fishermen from the other camps, to fight the fire, and for more than an hour the men worked valiantly. They chopped off great green branches and beat out the flames, they threw on buckets of sand from the beach, they chopped down trees and made a broad path in front of the fire, and finally they dug a trench to keep it from running along the grass.

At last the fire was declared to be all out; but it was not until the men's hands were blistered, and their faces burned and blackened with the smoke. This was not the worst of it, however, for nearly an acre of valuable timber had been destroyed, and the dead trees held out their stiff leafless branches like ghosts of the beautiful pines and firs that had stood there in the sunshine that very day.

The boys went back to their camps very soberly. How their hearts ached at the mischief they had done! They could think of nothing, talk of nothing, but the fire. Dean and Gordon sobbed themselves to sleep, feeling sure that Uncle Joe would send them both home in the morning.

But the next day good, kind Uncle Joe, whom everyone loved, called the boys around him and gave them a long talk about forest fires.

He told them he hoped this experience would teach them never to build a fire anywhere unless men were near to guard it carefully, and not even then if the grass were very dry, or there was the least breath of wind to carry the flames and sparks.

He explained that thousands of dollars' worth of property might have been destroyed, and possibly lives might have been lost by their carelessness. He told them stories of the terrible forest fires that have raged for days in the timber lands of the Northwest. When at last he asked for their promises, the boys gave them readily, for they had learned how very dangerous a fire can be; and for the rest of that summer, at least, there wasn't another bonfire at Silver Lake.

Why did Dean hesitate to start a fire when his uncle was away?

If the boughs had been green or wet would they have burned as quickly?

Did you ever see a fire in the grass or woods, running along like a race-horse?How do you think these fires are started?

Why are fires most dangerous in the summer and fall?

Forest fires are started from bonfires, by hunters, campers, fishermen, or lumbermen, or by mischievous and careless persons. Fires should never be started unless the ground is cleared around them, and at a safe distance from any building or woods. They should never be left unguarded.

Forest fires have become so serious that many states have appointed Fire Wardens, whose duty it is to patrol the forests.

Watch towers have been erected, from which observations are taken, and in case of fire, alarm is spread by means of a telephone system.

In some countries avenues, equal in width to the height of the tallest tree, are cut through the forests at intervals of half a mile.These avenues afford a fire-barrier and standing ground for the firemen to fight the flames.

With the many acres of valuable timber destroyed by fire every year, and the indiscriminate cutting of trees by the lumbermen, our forests are fast disappearing. Children should be encouraged to observe Arbor Day, and to plant trees, so that the custom may become more general, and the forests be renewed.