“The atmosphere was dominated by a feeling of mutual respect . . . There existed in those days a true camaraderie in our profession, whatever the small differences in our approach.”
They slurp their soup, and play their song, then pop off to bed, in a quilt stitched together by the Cat, embroidered by the Squirrel, and filled with fine feathers from the Duck. And it’s peaceful in the olde white cabin. Everyone has his own job to do. Everyone is happy. Or so it seems...