A Day's Black Bass Fishing at Upper Woods Lake, Fa. 13 
TOad\/a Hundred times, yet he never 
tired of the trip, and, as 
‘‘He staid not for brake, and he staid not for 
stone,”’ 
we arrived at the lake in due season, 
feeling that our ride had been all too 
short, and wishing that it might have 
been continued to Delaware river, some 
seven miles further on. It was easy 
for us to believe ourselves among the 
favored of the gods, for what a veri- 
shades, and the fading many-colored 
woods, ‘‘ with every hue from wan de- 
clining green.’’ Beach, maple and su- 
mach, responsive to the first gentle 
breath of chilling frost, were suffused 
with sentient blushes that made this 
landscape ‘‘gem of purest ray serene”’ 
remind one of a mammoth brooch in 
which some rare old grey-green agate 
had found a setting of iridescent jewels. 
One hundred yards back from the lake 


The Lake and Panther Rock by Moonlight. 
table little haven of rest was our 
destination! A more beautiful sheet of 
water I have never seen. As we stood 
upon the club house portico that after- 
noon and viewed the entrancing pros- 
pect, we gazed upon its placid waters 
‘*as in a looking-glass,” which mirrored 
its beautifully wooded shores in the 
magic resplendence. Summer had re- 
signed her sunny robes, ‘‘ while Au- 
tumn, nodding o’er the yellow plain,” 
had imbrowned the russet mead and 
country round with ever deepening 
stood the club house, literally embow- 
ered in grand old forest trees. Draw 
as we might upon our imaginations 
we could not have planned a more per- 
fect retreat than this, our temporary 
abode, afforded us. What a perfect 
sense of delight and home-like comfort 
did that magnificent old fire place, with 
its ample, blazing fire of hard-wood 
logs inspire, for the afternoon was 
chilly, as we waited to be shown to our 
rooms by the stewardess. and what de- 
licious odors were occasionally wafted 
