around the campfire

Last night I told Sacky a late-night story (starting at 10 PM). They had played a fun/wild game of "French Rev" (which requires darkness), and then wandered up the hill back to the village, passing through the outdoor chapel. Lena McNally, Sacky's VC, and I made a fire in anticipation of their arrival. The girls found a roaring box fire and sat down around it, staring at the flames and upward into the starry sky. It was one of those fabulous August Catskills nights, when the sparks of a campfire fly up and become like stars themselves. We could see the Milky Way. Once they settlled I told an old story (one I don't tell often). It's my one story without a title, but I refer to it as "Mary, I'm on the first step." I learned it from Dave King (who used to tell it to the entire camp at opening campfire), and it has a silly surprise ending ('"Gotcha!"). I've varied it but the ending is the same. I've heard and now told this story for 50 years. Really. At last night's story, in the dark: it might have been 1965. The photo here is of the fire, of course, but I've photoshopped it so you can see a little bit of Lena behind it.