DAYS IN THE OPEN 



skeptic, as he arose to begin a serious investigation. 



The noise was unmistakable; faint but clear, and 

 from without. Approaching the window the noise 

 became more distinct, but the character of it 

 remained a mystery. Bands are not indigenous in 

 rural districts, and no large town was near. With 

 nose pressed against the window-screen in a vain 

 effort to see everything within a radius of five 

 miles, the explorer suddenly realized that the music 

 was right at hand, and the musicians, in countless 

 numbers, were separated from his face only by 

 the wire netting. Mosquitoes? Exactly, and their 

 name was legion. If night had suddenly turned to 

 day one could not have seen anything through that 

 window for the cloud of mosquitoes. New Jersey 

 may justly boast of the size and ferocity of her 

 mosquitoes, but for numbers Skegemog fears no 

 rival. 



It is more than probable that some reader will 

 say to himself, " I wouldn't stay in such a place." 

 Well, we stayed, not because of the pests, but in 

 spite of them, and because they formed the only 

 drawback to one's enjoyment. The Lodge was on 

 a point of land with water on three sides, the 

 table was exceptionally satisfactory, the guests 

 were congenial and the black bass never failed to 

 respond promptly to our advances. What are a 

 few mosquitoes, more or less, when such para- 

 disaical conditions obtain? 



To many people a bass is a bass, and that's all 



