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قراءة كتاب The Boy With the U. S. Foresters

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‏اللغة: English
The Boy With the U. S. Foresters

The Boy With the U. S. Foresters

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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Government Property

  • Wilbur's Own Camp
  • Just about Ready to Shoot
  • Train-load from One Tree
  • Wilbur's Own Bridge
  • Where the Supervisor Stayed
  • Measuring a Fair-sized Tree
  • Running a Telephone Line
  • Nursery for Young Trees
  • Plantation of Young Trees
  • Sowing Pine Seed
  • Planting Young Trees
  • What Tree-planting Will Do
  • The First Conservation Expert
  • Sand Burying a Pear Orchard
  • No Water, No Forests. No Forests, No Water
  • With Water!
  • "That's One Painter Less, Anyhow!"
  • "Smoke! And How am I Going to Get There?"
  • "Keep It from Spreading, Boys!"
  • "Get Busy Now, When It Breaks into the Open!"

  • THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FORESTERS

    CHAPTER I

    ENTERING THE SERVICE

    "Hey, Wilbur, where are you headed for?"

    The boy addressed, who had just come through the swing-doors of an office building in Washington, did not slacken his pace on hearing the question, but called back over his shoulder:

    "To the forest, of course. Come along, Fred."

    "But—" The second speaker stopped short, and, breaking into a run, caught up with his friend in a few steps.

    "You certainly seem to be in a mighty big hurry to get there," he said.

    "We don't loaf on our service," answered the boy with an air of pride.

    His friend broke into a broad grin. He had known Wilbur Loyle for some time, and was well aware of his enthusiastic nature.

    "How long has it been 'our' service?" he queried, emphasizing the pronoun.

    "Ever since I was appointed," rejoined Wilbur exultantly.

    "I'm glad the appointment has had time to soak in; it didn't take long, did it?" Wilbur flushed a little, and his chum, seeing this, went on laughingly: "Don't mind my roasting, old man, only you were 'way up in the clouds."

    The boy's expression cleared instantaneously, and he laughed in reply.

    "I suppose I was," he said, "but it's great to feel you've got the thing you've been working for. As you know, Fred, I've been thinking of this for years; in fact, I've always wanted it, and I've worked hard to get it. And then the Chief Forester's fine; he's just fine; I liked him ever so much."

    "Did you have much chance to talk with him?"

    "Yes, quite a lot. I thought I was likely enough to meet him, and p'raps he would formally tell me I was appointed and then bow me out of the office. Not a bit of it. He told me all about the Service, showed me just what there was in it for the country, and I tell you what—he made me feel that I wanted to go right straight out on the street and get all the other boys to join."

    "Why?"

    "Well, he showed me that the Forest Service gave a fellow a chance to make good even better than in the army or the navy. There you have to follow orders mainly; there's that deadly routine besides, and you don't get much of a chance to think for yourself; but in the Forest Service a chap is holding down a place of trust where he has a show to make good by working it out for himself."

    "Sounds all right," said the older boy. "Anyway, I'm glad if you're glad."

    "What I like about it," went on Wilbur, "is the bigness of the whole thing and the chance a chap has to show what he's made of. Glad? You bet I'm glad!"

    "You weren't so sure whether you were going to like it or not when you went in to see about it," said Fred.

    "Oh, yes, I was. I knew I was going to like it all right. But I didn't know anything about where I might be sent or how I would be received."

    "I think it's just ripping," said his friend, "that it looks so good to you, starting out. It makes a heap of difference, sometimes, how a thing begins."

    "It surely does. Right now, the whole thing seems too good to be true."

    "Well," said the other, "as long as it strikes you that way I suppose you're satisfied now for all the grind you did preparing for it. But I don't believe it would suit me. It might be all right to be a Forest Ranger, but you told me one time that you had to start in as a Fire Guard, a sort of Fire Policeman, didn't you?"

    "Sure!"

    "Well, that doesn't sound particularly exciting."

    "Why not? What more excitement do you want than a forest fire! Isn't that big enough for you?"

    "The fire would be all right," answered the older boy, "but it's the watching and waiting for it that would get me."

    "You can't expect to have adventures every minute anywhere," said Wilbur, "but even so, you're not standing on one spot like a sailor in a crow's nest, waiting for something to happen; you're in the saddle, riding from point to point all day long, sometimes when there is a trail and sometimes when there isn't, out in the real woods, not in poky, stuffy city streets. You know, Fred, I can't stand the city; I always feel as if I couldn't breathe."

    "All right, Wilbur," said the other, "it's your own lookout, I suppose. Me for the city, though."

    Just then, and before Fred could make any further reply, a hand was laid on Wilbur's

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