Yarns Without Threads 

"Jesus!" he thought. "The way things have been going lately, I might as well be in a nudist camp."

Which, Uncle Phil informed him in short order, was his exact location . . . a nudist camp, a black nudist camp to be exact, in the Ramapos, several miles south-west of Suffern.

Chuck discovered, when they passed other residents, that nudity in public seemed, if anything, more natural than wearing clothes when everybody did it and said as much to Paula.