Sparkling Benchley, as he and two work cronies take off to a cabin in the woods to reconnect with masculine authenticity, where it rains incessantly and the native Indian guide fleeces them all at poker.
Benchley's narration never loses its enthusiasm, despite the reality of what we see, as when the men eat a meal of sloppy, warmed-up tinned beans: “A man owes it to his stomach every once in a while to feed it as nature intended it to be fed: from nature's own storehouse.”
We cut to Mrs Doakes enjoying a civilised breakfast of toast and eggs, but Benchley is unconvinced: “This is all very pretty, but is it nature? No, a thousand times, no! This is artificial food, food for women. A man needs nobler fare.”