Here's the real story; I know because I was told it by the canoeing instructor, Paddly Whitmore, who knew everything. This was at Kamp Kwagmire. The song was composed by a one-time counsellor at that very camp, but before this counsellor could finish the last verse, he was surprised by the mad axe-murderer of Algonquin Park. The counsellor's body was never found, and on certain nights, it was said, he would come prowling around the camp looking for that last verse - or his head; there was some disagreement on that point.

Of course, I went to a boys' camp, which might explain some of the discrepancy between this true story and some of the other not-so-true accounts. Apparently girls had to be sheltered from the hard, cold facts. In those days, anyway.