NAPLES ON THE GULF. 



BY WM. C. HARRIS. 



It was my good fortune, during- 1895, 

 to visit two widely separated angling 

 resorts, both of which I left with regret, 

 because of the restful feeling that I ex- 

 perienced when there — a sort of nega- 

 tion of all individuality and an almost 

 entire oblivion of things gone by and 

 of interest in those to come. So placid 

 and complete was my unconscious, at 

 least undemonstrative, faith that with 

 the uprising of the sun to the gathering 

 of twilight with its touches and tints of 

 beauty everywhere, that come cloud or 

 sunshine, storm or calm, the result would 

 surely be a perfect and reposeful con- 

 tent with all things in life. Dolce far 

 jiicntc does not phrase or explain the 

 feeling, for my mind was active, and a 

 warm appreciation of the bright and 

 fruitful outlook for filling every hour of 

 the day with enjoyment, was always 

 present. It was, to a man of my years, 

 like being earth-bom again, but leaping 

 at once from infancy to adolescence, with 

 all the ripe and restraining experiences 

 of three score years and ten. My angling 

 friends need not be told that the fishing 

 rod had a good deal to do with this 

 L^topian condition. One of these de- 

 lightful sojournings was at Bayport, 

 Mich., described at length some months 

 ago ; the other at " Naples on the Gulf," 

 twin sisters of repose, albeit more than 

 one thousand miles apart. 



About seventy miles from Punta 

 Gorda, the railroad terminus on the 

 west coast of Florida and nearly ninety 

 miles northwest from Key West, the 

 angling tourist will find " Naples on the 

 Gulf." It was at this delightful spot 

 that I spent two months, in company 

 with Mr. Jno. L. Petrie, the artist, dur- 

 ing the latter part of the winter of '95, 



engaged in catching and painting the 

 typical fishes caught on hook and line 

 from the waters of the southern seas. 



Naples, with its broad expanse of 

 many thousands of acres, is the property 

 of Mr. W. N. Haldeman, the principal 

 owner of the Louisville Courier -J our rial, 

 of which Henry Watterson, the talented, 

 is managing editor. Mr. Haldeman is 

 perforce the owner of this beautiful and 

 health-inspiriting watering place. Years 

 ago he loaned nearly $30,000 to an asso- 

 ciation, whose object was to duplicate 

 on the Gulf the attractions of the old 

 city of the Mediterranean. Climate and 

 environment favored the enterprise, but 

 unforeseen difficulties arose, and, failure 

 coming quickly, Mr. Haldeman was 

 compelled to take possession. This re- 

 sult has, despite pecuniary loss, been a 

 boon to the proprietor, who now passes 

 several winter months at Naples, renew- 

 ing his physical health and mental 

 vigor in the bracing but soothing at- 

 mosphere of his winter home. 



It is a superb domain over which to 

 hold dominion and receive, in one's 

 later years, the gift of renewed powers 

 of body and mind, but it is not selfishly 

 held for personal ends. A picturesque 

 and commodious hotel, well furnished 

 and thoroughly appointed and several 

 outlying guest cottages have been built, 

 and the management assigned to one of 

 the most competent and courteous of 

 ladies. Miss Mary ^McLaughlin of Lex- 

 ington, Ky., who brings with her, each 

 season, a corp of selected servants and 

 assistants from the Blue Grass State, 

 and offers her guests, who come from 

 every section, those home attractions 

 so seldom found in large gatherings at 

 the usual watering places. Mr. Halde- 



