December, 1912 
This switchboard has ammeters of the Weston type, both 
for reading the current of battery on charge and discharge 
and also a generator output. Also, a voltmeter with switches 
to enable the potential of either the generator or battery as 
a whole to be ascertained. The telephone and signaling cir- 
cuits are carried in an underground, lead-covered cable, 
having fourteen wires. These include the local telephone 
and door-lock circuits, public telephone, and two buzzer cir- 
cuits, one to give notice when the ante-room door at the 
bridge opens and one giving notice of the approach of an 
electric car when the latter is still a mile distant, and two 
circuits in reserve for emergency use. 
Underlying the bungalow is a snug and perfectly ap- 
pointed stone basement with its various rooms. ~Muckross 
also includes a twenty-acre farm on which live the servants. 
Here cows, horses, pigs and chickens are raised side by side 
with their untamed brethren. ‘Thus the estate is self-pro- 
ducing, since it yields milk, butter, eggs, poultry and garden 
truck, to say nothing of its fishing and wild game. But as 
an incentive, all proceeds of the farm above, the current 
expenses of the estate, are shared by the servants. Per- 
haps it is unnecessary to mention that the yield therefrom 
is truly surprising. 
About a third of the acreage of Muckross is timber land, 
80,000 White Pines having been set out within the first two 
years of its existence, and it is anticipated that in thirty 
years the timber will pay for the investment. The estate is 
well stocked with game, having perhaps as its choicest asset 
a hundred head of deer, which were purchased as other 
cattle. Also three and a half miles of natural trout brook 
with three artificial ponds stocked with native and rainbow 
trout. The largest of these ponds—each of which is 
equipped with canoes and rowboats—covers sixteen acres. 
While the “Falls,” just below, which is five hundred -feet 
AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 
419 
from its entrance into the Black River, plunges over a nearly 
vertical ledge—a distance of 114 feet. Thus, by means 
of a reinforced concrete dam and a small hydro-electric plant 
located nearby, the Falls furnishes sufficient power to gener- 
ate electricity for lighting the bungalow, the garage across 
the bridge, and out-buildings; brilliantly illumines the bridge 
and paths twining about the grounds with incandescent elec- 
tric lamps mounted in special weatherproof fixtures designed 
especially for the purpose; operates the electric range in the 
kitchen, heaters for rooms and all service water. 
In asking Mr. Woolson how he happened to establish 
such an unusual habitat for “just a lone man,” he replied: 
“Through my love for hunting and fishing, and its conse- 
quent camp life. But,’ he added, “‘since living here I’ve so 
learned to love the wild creatures of the woods that I can’t 
kill them as I used to. Perhaps this is due to an experience 
I had after my first purchase of deer. For I was just re- 
turning from a day’s hunting when a young doe, appearing 
in the flat beyond, was such a pretty shot that I up and fired. 
She fell. But when I reached her she raised her head and 
looked at me with such a piteous pleading in her soft eyes 
that it sickened me, and particularly as I further witnessed 
the heart-gripping grief of her mate. And I resolved then 
and there never again to kill merely for the ‘sport.’ And 
for months after I wouldn’t look at a gun. Until now,” and 
Mr. Woolson smiled benignly, ‘it has become nothing less 
than an ambition to so woo these shy creatures that event- 
ually they will not flee at my coming, but will recognize me 
as their friend and protector.” This growth of tenderness 
for animals is not exactly the record borne by St. Francis 
d’ Assisi or Henry Thoreau, as they always had the faculty 
of charming the wild denizens of wood, air and water, so 
that they came to their hands; a power which may yet fall 
to the master of Muckross in his weaponless sylvan tramps. 
A wide-covered porch runs across the bungalow at “Muckross”’ 
