Terms, Four Dollars a Year. I 

 Ten Cents a Copy. ( 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1877- 



/ Volume 9.— No. 5. 



I No. Ill Kalion St., N. Y. 



Selected,. 

 WHEN MAIDENS SHOULD LOVE. 



[From the Spanish of Gongora.l 

 Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



VTAIDENB, in our village home, 

 -"-*• Prattling ever thus so boldly, 

 Be wary lest the time should come 



When age and trust shall treat you coldly. 

 Pear to let youth's giddy hours 



Wile to over fond believing, 

 Por with cast and faded flowers 



Time his garlands still is weaving. 



Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



Lightly flit the years away, 



While, on eager pinions pressing, 

 Harpies watch, and as their prey, 



Snatch from us each choicest blessing. 

 The bloom, that but a day endures, 



Of truth nice this gives ever warning. 

 As evening's chilling blight obscures 



The charms that opened with the morning. 

 Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



Take heed lest, when your fancies ween 



Of dawnlng's chimes they hear the greeting, 

 Far other call life's peal skould mean, 



And warn of night, and time's retreating. 

 Then, bereft of beauty's glow, 



Lost your gentleness and graces, 

 Your winning charms no^more shall show 



Themselves as first in all our places. 



Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



An aged dame I've known, whose face 



Once was sweetly soft and blooming, 

 Though now 'twere hard such charms to trace 



Through coat of false enamel looming. 

 For her painted cheeks and brow, 



O'er which love's smile no longer twinkleB, 

 Show like bishop's surplice now. 



Puckered into folds and wrinkles. 



Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



And yet another dame I know, 



Who had but one sole tooth remaining, 

 And saw it sink, some days ago, 



Within a posset she was draining. 

 Then, wailing thus, she cried— Oh, tooth ! 



That long my soul has loved to cherish, 

 A pearl I knew thee in thy youth, 



A worthless waif I see thee perish. 



Spnng-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



This lesson, hence, fond maids unfold, 



That ere cold, niggard age bereave you 

 Of all your locks of r.ddy gold, 



And but the pearl's gray lustre leave you, 

 'Tis yours to seek while you are sought, 



And iove while j r ou ate ripe for wooing, 

 Lest luck's bald hind-head set at nought 



The clutch of lools too late pursuing. 



Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, 

 Spring-time passes fleetly. 



— C. in the Edinburgh Scotsman. 



_-^#-._ 



For Forest and Stream. 



§eijciUings at flevilz ]£*%*. 



A S Kit North dons his Sporting Jacket, he observes that 

 **• " there is a fine and beautiful alliance between all pas- 

 times pursued by flood, field and fell." Bo, too, each should 

 add its charms t-W sport pursued by either of the others. The 

 fragrance of purple clover, the beauty of wooded shores, 

 illumined by _bnrs f - mjL sunshine on those cloudy days loved 

 by all anglers. cuntrTb) .e to the piquant enjoyment felt by 

 the true sportsman as L , sees far out from his skiff the frautic 

 leap of the hooked bass or pickerel. The thrill caused by a 

 upon a rod is doubly relished, when the music and 

 tremor of the running reel come to one who has been prepared 

 to enjoy them by a beautif id landscape. The gray f nj u§ where 

 Keen dogs start the whirring covey of quail, lie among hedge- 

 rows, single trees, groves and forests rich in autumn colors, 

 and blessed, it may be, with the sparkle of lake or river.' 

 shooting on rea i praise j s comparatively monotonous, and so 



is fishing out of sight of land. That sport is best which can 

 be pursued among the combined beauties of forest and 

 siream, and such sport may be found at Devil's Lake in South- 

 ern Michigan, about fifteen miles west of Adrian and ten 

 miles north of Hudson on the Michigan Division of the Lake 

 Shore Road. The stage which runs from Hudson north to 

 Coontown leaves the voyageur within two miles of the lake, 

 and mine hosts, Terpney and Morley, landlords of the two 

 dmgy hotels of Coontown, will give him good accommoda- 

 tions. The lake is about four miles long and one mile wide, 

 and iunumerable camp-meetings, celebrations and picnics 

 have combined with its natural beauty and excellent fishing 

 to make it a public favorite, According to the lectures of Gen- 

 eral Cass, it was in 1 760 the headquarters of a large branch of the 

 tribe of Ottawa Indians. Pontiac, the Indian Napoleon, occa- 

 sionally visited them, and there yet remain faint traces of the 

 deeply worn trail which led to the French Post, then estab- 

 lished at Detroit. The scars, found by the first settlers, upon 

 the old maples thickly scattered over the region, the discovery 

 of old brass kettles, the plowing up of numerous knives, 

 stone hatchets, axes and arrow heads indicate that the Otta- 

 was were numerous. Doctor "Jo" Welch, of Hudson, cham- 

 pion wing shot of the State, has a large collection of these 

 relics, including stone hammers, pipes, spear-heads, drills and 

 skinning instruments, together with iron knives stamped with 

 a Greek cross— the early trademark of the Franciscan monks. 

 The Devil's Lake tradition was well known to Joseph Beal, a 

 recently deceased centenarian of the vicinity. He had be- 

 friended the savages, receiving substantial proof of their grat- 

 itude in the form of occasional wild turkeys and saddles of 

 venison. He kept tobacco and pipes in his log cabin, and un- 

 der the influence of the genial weed, several of the Indians had 

 related the tradition, and freely answered his numerous ques- 

 tions. Long before its occupation by the Ottawas, the lake 

 was known among the Indians as "Honey Water," and a 

 great chief lived there with a numerous tribe. Game and fish 

 were abundant, the maples yielded sugar, wild bees swarmed 

 among the forest flowers, and were traced to ample stores of 

 honey, while the banks of the birch-treed brooks shielded the 

 mink, otter and beaver, whose furs enriched the couches of 

 the wigwams. The chief's daughter had been presented with 

 a canoe by the tribe, in the construction of which many rude 

 but loving hands had assisted ; the birch sides were inlaid 

 with shells, the walnut paddles were carved with strange fig- 

 ures, and its happy owner loved to float far out on the lake at 

 evening. One night, this canoe, propelled by an invisible. 

 power, came swiftly to the village beach at sunset, and in- 

 stinctively the chief knew that his daughter was drowned. 

 After a fruitless search for her dead body, the grief-stricken 

 chief drowned himself in the waters as the first sunlight of 

 the morning was gilding their surface. Now civil discord 

 arose, as the braves fought for the vacant chieftainship ; but 

 in the midst of this deplorable strife, several Indians rushed 

 wildly into one of the camps with the startling intelligence 

 that on a bluff at the east side of the lake "appeared a ghostly 

 wigwam, and that Michi-Manitou, the Spirit of Evil, had 

 doubtless reared it there for some purpose which could bode 

 only evil to the tribe. The braves assembled in council, when 

 ten warriors were appointed to examine the bluff. Crouched 

 fearfully behind the protecting trunks of trees, the exploring 

 party watched, until, at nightfall, they suddenly saw tongues of 

 fire issuing*from the lake, and the Evil Spirit, veiled by a thick 

 smoke, presently emerged and disappeared in the heavy forest. 

 Fairy music aDd hideous laughter and song were heard all 

 night upon the crown of the bluff ; but at daylight, the spirit 

 returned to the deep water, and none of the frightened behold- 

 ers could describe him. That morning one of the girls of the 

 tribe attempted to cross the spot with a deer she had killed, 

 and was taken from her boat to grace the Evil Spirit's subma- 

 rine lodge. The Indians were terrified ; a supernatural power 

 wanted their maidens, their game and their fish, and they 

 named the lake Michi-Monitou and left its beautiful but dan- 

 gerous waters far behind them. And the forest around it re- 

 mained deserted for many hundred moons, until Pontiac es- 

 tablished tuere a village of Ottawas. But the lake is still 

 waiting for some Irving or Cooper to perpetuate its story. 



Michi-Maniiouhas not yet been described; no Wordsworth 

 or Soutbey has celebrated its beauties in verse where the eye 

 travels delighted over the pastures and wheat fields that mel- 

 low to the reedy margin of the water. Many fish are caueht 



through the ice in winter, and in summer the sp ear is used ia 

 defiance of the laws. The rudest angler is almost sure of 

 good sport, yet there are localities known only to a favored 

 few where the fishing is superb. During a stiff breeze, 

 and while there was running a very heavy sea for the oars- 

 man in a light skiff, and anchored in twelve feet of water, 

 the writer caught forty-six large bass ia two hours and a half. 

 The black bass is a fastidious fellow ; he likes live bait— min- 

 nows— and is alarmed by a large line. Fine silk lines of a 

 dark gray seem to answer very well, but the hooks should be 

 large and perfect, as the struck fish often leaps three feet from 

 the water, which he chums into foam-bells as he bounds blue- 

 white into the air, in a desperate effort to shake himself loose. 

 Little Will, an eight-year-old nephew, lost a monster fish this 

 summer by reason of a defective hook, and he is inconsolable. 

 At Devil's Lake, all classes meet on equal terms ; the place is 

 democratic. Yonder bright-eyed boy, who safely lands abasa 

 in his skiff with a yell of delight, is a Hillsdale College stu- 

 dent, familiar with logarithms, the Greek verbs and evolu- 

 tion. The bronzed man quietly eating his lunch under an 

 enormous straw hat, by the iron Spring in Willett's Cove, is 

 an Adrian banker, whose check is good for a hundred thou- 

 sand dollars. That apparition in a woolen shirt and brown 

 "overalls" may be a merchant and Legislator, who has sway- 

 ed Senates and managed the Michigan finances, an attorney 

 who has in charge the legal affairs of great corporations, or a 

 farm laborer who cannot read or write. 



But darkness has caught us with pencil yet in hand. "Rome" 

 —short for Romeo— our companion in sport, shouts that sup- 

 per is ready. He has filled his eyes with smoke while mak- 

 ing the damp leaves of the woods kindle a fire, whose ashes 

 now yield baked potatoes. Green twigs make good toasting 

 forks for the slices of ham, and the bread and cheese are wash- 

 ed down with liberal drafts of cider from the little brown jug. 

 Truly this is a fine night ! The wind is roaring in the tree- 

 tops, and the waves are making a very respectable noise on ' 

 the beach. Pounding down the bunches in our hay couch 

 we draw the buffalo robes over us and sleep soundly. Rome 

 wakes at daylight and cries " Time!" Half -past three! Ye 

 gods, what a miserably early hour for rising ! A row of a mile 

 in the gloaming takes us across to Darlington's Point, where 

 we build a fire, eat a hearty breakfast, and rowing to the 

 edge of blue water, let out the trolling lines into the heavy 

 waves, tipped withwhite caps. The East is in all the gloiy 

 of sunrise. Staid old farmers, do ye know that one who 

 could transfer this scene to canvas would be immortal ; that 

 the views, changing and retiring in their perfection as we enter 

 Willett's Cove, prove that beauty has here pitched her tents ? 

 But a fish has struck one of the hooks, and his leap in the 

 early sunlight, ten rods away, makes Rome tremble with ex- 

 citement. The diamond drops fall from the oars, which are 

 steadily plied mile after mile, until Pennocks is reached. It 

 is not a good day for trolling, but as we pass Black Bass 

 Point, two fine fish are taken. Regal, with its many crescents, 

 the low-lying shores of the western part of the lake appear^ 

 and as we glide across a bar and let out the lines, it is 11 o'clock. 

 Eight miles of rowing and but three fish! A mile along the 

 north shore, then the edge of a line of rushes is followed, 

 curving to the south ; forty rods more, and we will have fin- 

 ished the circuit of the lake— but the right hand line straight- 

 ens, then the left. Glorious! Here is a leaping bass on each 

 hook ! The oars are dropped for the first time, and two hap- 

 py trailers each pull in a fish, one a gigantic fellow, the larg- 

 est bass of the season. 



A half day's rowing bring us to lunch with a sharp appe- 

 tite, and during the heat of the day we will watch from the 

 grassy bank the long flight of the cranes, and the circles of the 

 many white-winged gulls, whose cries come faintly over the 

 waters. But, hark ! a far-off sullen rumble j the water grows 

 still and black, and a hush is among the leaves. There, in 

 the west, sweeps on the light-colored advance line of a heavy 

 thunder-shower. The tree-tops yonder are bowing their heads 

 in a strong wind; not a breath here yet— but soon there is a 

 fast, thick pattering oh the woods, and as the storm breaks 

 over us, the lake shore tumbles with heavy waves displayed 

 by the flashes of lightning. Secure in our shanty, we listen to 

 the long roll of the thunder, and before the storm is fairly 

 over, Rome has rowed us far out on the lake, whose rain- 

 washed and sunlit eastern woods are crowned by the bow of 

 promise. The rods are speedily adjusted, while we float ou 



