ffDRSST AND STREAM. 
[SbPT . 4 1897, 
GREEN MOUNTAIN NOTES. 
The past month has been extremely unfavorable for camo- 
iag, and many of the popular resorts on Lake Champlain 
haye suffered in consequence. The cold, and for the most 
part rainy weather, has rendered this delightful pastime 
more of a hardship than a pleasure. A large number of new 
camps have sprung into existence this year, and that and the 
tremendous summer traffic of the local railroads and the 
Champlain steamer lines seem to indicate that Lake Cham- 
plain is becoming a dangerous rival to her lordly neighbors, 
the Adirondacks, in the matter of popularity. As a resort 
for the diciple of Walton, the lake is without a rival in the 
Eastern States. 
If you are an admirer of that black, pugnacious gladi- 
ator, the black ba.«s, you will find him here in hin pristine 
glory, ever ready to test the strength of your split-bamboo 
with a half-hour's struggle for the mastery; and under the 
shadow of the cliffs, in his slimy haunts amid the trailing 
water weeds, the warypickeiel lies in wait for the time 
when he can dart like some silvery sub-marme arrow at your 
latest purchase of trolling spoon;. and, perchance, if you do 
not despise the humble but satisfactory sunfish, bullhead, 
perch and shiner, you will find them in wait for your hook 
from the Richelieu to the Narrows, and these, with their 
brothers, the lake trout, shad, pike and many others of less 
esteem, ought to give you abundant pleasure and entertain- 
ment. Camping locations are in great plentltude and the 
farmhouse is always present, and there you can as you will 
replenish your larder with the finest products of the herd 
and garden. You have no malarial mists to dodge, trouble- 
some insects are few, and there ia the purest of life-giving, 
health-promoting ozone to breathe, fresh-laden with spicy 
odors from the Adirondacks. 
The lake is very easy to reach from the large cities either 
by rail or boat. One season's stay will win you, as it has 
you with its thousands of ducks— black, redhead, mallard, 
teal and many others. Or the noble wild goose, whose V- 
sbaped iiight in the cold November sky fills the sportsman 
with anticipation for a closer range. 
The Winooski River is a famous pike ground, while the 
Otter Creek is noted far and near for its bass. The marsh 
in the town of Ferrisburgh, near the mouth, is a favorite re- 
sort for duck hunters, and in the spring pickerel shooting 
there is excellent sport. Kenewah. 
Milton, Vt., Aug. 27. 
A NEW HAMPSHIRE OUTING. 
BosTOK, A-ug. 28. — Editor Forest and Stream: It was with 
no veryfgJreat feeling of regret that we turned our backs on 
Lake Winnepiseogee this summer and decided to revisit 
old s<5ene8 and renew old associations in the ever-attractive 
White Mountain region. I must confess, however, that 
as I rpad in the papers of the magnificent catches of black 
bass made in the lake during the present month, I had 
longings for the pleasant cottage at Spring Haven, and a 
desire to retrieve my poor luck of last season. But that 
was not to be, and instead I was tramping over old paths 
I trod years ago, following the brooks that always yielded 
a handsome lot of trout, small in size, as those of mountain 
brooks always are, but delicious in flavor and the best of 
eating after a hard tramp through the woods and brush. 
"Wednesday, July 28, found us (Mrs. S. went along) at 
the pretty little station on Jeflferson Hill, N. H., and a 
few minutes later we were at the residence of the Hon. 
N. E. Perkins. We had been there many times before — 
for twenty years we never missed a season, and of course 
well knew what was in store for us in the way of hospital- 
ity and good cheer. Mr. Perkins is one of the leading 
citizens of the county — a lumberman, having large inter- 
ests in the Brown Lumber Co., whose extensive plant is 
£ji, Whitefleld — a farmer, a railroad man, and in former 
jears a politician, who has held all the offices his constitu- 
ents could give him. And he is never better pleased than 
THE LAMOILLli, 
won many a traveler who by chance has visited this country 
and has abandoned his globe trotting for the pleasures of this 
charming inland sea. Points of interest are not wanting, 
both historical and natural; of the former, the stirring 
acenes of the Revolution are brought back with an interest 
you have never before known when you gaze upon the 
crumbling ramparts of Ticondeioga and Fort Frederic, the 
formidable outposts of the infant nation in that glorious 
page of her early history. These, with the many other his- 
torical ruins and scenes, are a never ending source of enter- 
tainment to the visitor. The natural wonders of Champlain 
are manifold. The chiefest are the Au Sable Chasm, a min- 
iature Yosemite, Grog Harbor, where a Champlaig steamer 
found a watery grave. Providence Island, and myriads of 
Others on every hand. If you are tiring of lake fishing, the 
•multitude of brooks that empty into the lake on either shore 
are, with few exceptions, homes of the brook trout, which, 
though pigmy in size compared with the finny folk of the 
lake, are none the less hard fighters, and whatever time you 
spend following the brooks through meadow, pasture and 
wood, it your wrist is alert and your line in season, will be, 
I warrant, voted by you well-spent when you sit down 
to a meal of your victims. The livers that pour 
their water into the lake are not a whit inferior 
as fishing grounds to the larger streams. The La- 
moille is a famous stream for pike as well as 
for bass; and in the spring, while its currents are still cool 
from the melting snow, '"hooking up" suckers, mullet and 
sturgeon is accounted good sport by local fishermen, and so 
it is. A sucker caught in the ordinary way has no more fight 
in him than a block ot wood ; but in the swift current of the 
Lamoille, with a cod hook in his tail, the evolutions that he 
will perform would put a 51b. trout to shame. It is no easy 
matter to land a sturgeon either, as they weigh from 
20 to ISOlbs., and a watchful eye and a quick hand are 
needed or ihe fisheiman is apt to share the "drink" with his 
prize. The scenery of the Lamoille is simply grand, one 
moment jou aie sailing through Ihe verdant viigin forest, 
the next thrc ugh some lofty cafions, perfect miniatures of 
the lamed Coloiado of the West, all presenting a varied 
and beautiful picture to the passing fisherman. 
If you are as fond of theioarof the nitro as you are of the 
chatter of your reel, stop umil autumn, and the river's broad 
acres of marsh at its shallow mouth will hold a charm for 
when he has tfjiouse:Jull of friends, as he generally does 
during the summer months. From his broad piazza the 
view is simply magnificent; ihe m hole White Mountain 
range presents itself, nothing intervenes except the broad 
Israel River Valley, then the foothills, then the Presiden- 
tial range, from Madison to Washington. What wonder, 
then, that I was glad to get there, glad to receive the 
hearty welcome from all the family, and to hear Nate 
(everybody calls him Nate here) "I'm glad you're come; 
it seems a long time since you were here." It wad only 
three years, butaslsaw the familiar points all about it 
didn't seem even that time. How the old scenes came 
back to my mind, and how pleasant it was to live them 
over again. 
Twenty or more years ago I generally managed to get 
there about the time haying was over, when Manasah 
Perkins, the 8on,^a8 a lad of fifteen, and who, even then, 
ran the farm soto'speak. Then the other work could be lelt 
to the hired;help,xind Manasah and I were free to go where - 
ever we chose. And many were the trips, long and short, 
we used to 4aie. One of these is particularly impressed 
upon my menaory. With a pair of horses, and a wagon 
filled with th«.^ecessary duffle, we started out one fine 
morning boujid on a fishing trip somewhere.. We had ro 
particular point in view, but were provisioned for a week 
if necessary. We brought up that night at the end of the 
road in West Stewartstown, half a mile from the Diamond 
ponds. The next morning we took possession of one of 
the lean-to camps on the shore of Little Diamond, and for 
three days had nothing but solid comfort. The weather 
was of the dog day sort, and the fishing on the ponds -was 
nothing remarkable. It was here I first met Judge Shurt- 
leflF, now the eflScient chaii-man of the Fish Commission. 
He with a party were camping on the big pond. Our boats 
coming together one day, we introduced ourselves, and he 
told us if we would conient ourselves with smaller trout 
than the ponds yielded, we could get them by fishing down 
the stream; they would be fair-sized brook trout, he said, 
and plenty of them. We took his advice next day, and 
we did get them sure enough. The Swift Diamond River 
tumbles out of the pond in a series of really beautiful falls 
for the distance of a quarter of a mile, then the fall of the 
stream is gradual, and it was no uncommon thing to get a 
dozen or twenty fiah out of a big hole. 1 never saw such 
brook fishing before and don't expect to again. By lunch 
time we had all we wanted. 
The next morning we started on our sixty-mile drive 
home, it was a cool day, and the ride, although a long one, 
was delightful. To Colebrook it was down hill all the 
way,_ and then to Lancaster the route lay along the Con- 
necticut Valley. The pair took us along in great shape, 
and at 6:30 P. M. we were on Jeflferson Hill. The fish 
were in fine condition, and a portion of them were dis- 
tributed among friends at the hotel. 
This is only one of the many trips Manasah and I made 
through the country in search of trout and always with 
good results. A favorite drive was that to Success Town- 
ship, on the east side of the Androscoggin River, adjoining 
the towns of Berlin and Milan. There were three streams 
up there that were full of trout in those days, and in the 
big holes of Chickanolopy we used to take plenty of ^ and 
fib. weight. 
Another notable trip comes to-inind. It was, perhaps, 
fifteen years ago, when Mr. Perkins, who was one of the 
county commissioners at that time, told me that there was 
to be a road hearing at Connecticut Lake on a certain day, 
and that if I would like to go along he would hitch up a 
pair and drive up. Of course I didu't need any urging for 
a trip of that sort, and my fishing togs were soon got to- 
gether. We joined his associate officials on the way, and 
at noon of the second day arrived at the lake. Here we 
found an excellent hotel, and we passed the afternoon in 
sailing about that beautiful sheet of water and trying to 
catch some of the big fish that abound there. The road 
hearing had no attraction for me, and I was glad to accept 
the invitation of a son of the Rev. Dr. Tyng, of New York, 
to go up to Paul's Stream and get a mess of trout. We put 
in the whole day and had excellent sport. When we re- 
turned to the hotel the hearing was over and many of the 
parties interested had departed. In the morning it seemed 
to me that nearly all the members of the Coos county bar 
were there representing the various interests involved, and 
several of them had remained over in order to make a trip 
to Second Lake. 
And just here occurred an incident that has never been 
forgotten, and I never see or hear of any of the parties in- 
terested that it does not come back with all its force and 
ludicrousness. The party was made up of Messrs. Edgar 
Aldrich (now IJ. S. District Judge), William S. Shurtleff", 
now Fish Commissioner; Irving W. Drew, a leading 
lawyer of New Hampshire, and Prof. Mark Binley, of Yale 
University, who was a guest of Judge Aldrich. The road 
to Second Lake at that time was of the roughest sort — it 
was easier walking than riding at any season of the year, 
but at that time it was particularly bad. But the party 
had made up their minds to go and bad roads were not 
going to stop them, although Shurtleff had his misgivings. 
Tiiey had chartered a two-seated buckboard; Irving Drew 
had also chartered a man to walk ah^ad of the team with 
a pair of lanterns, and when they had got seated (tt was 8 
o'clock in the evening) Shurtleff turned to the landlord 
and said: "Smith, if you see a man looking for the biggest 
f 'ol in Coos county, send him in to Second Lake after 
me." 
With that they drove olf into the blackness and dark- 
ness of night. 1 afterward learned ihat they arrived at 
the lake all right after being five hours going six miles — 
got old man Chester up, had an early breakfast, caught a 
f 3W fish and went back to First Lake in a little better 
time by daylight. Our party retuerned by way of Dixville 
Notch, Errol Dam, down the Androscoggin River, across 
the hills of Milan to Granton, then down the Connecticut 
Valley to Lancaster. It was a most delightful journey, 
and in later years my friend and I take renewed pleasure 
in recalling its varied incidents. 
BntI started to say something of my present outing — get- 
ting into a reminiscent mood was natural, surrounded as I 
was by the scenes of years past, and seeing again those 
with whom I had passed so many pleafant days. Of 
course I brought along my fishing traps— all except a pair 
of waders, and I found these hanging where I had left 
them three years ago. We were in Jefferson between 
three and four weeks, and we literally loafed the time 
away. I tried several of the brooks in the vicinity, and 
always got a few trout that would clear the law. We sat 
on the piazza hours at a time, now and then reading, again 
simply watching the cloud and sunshine changes on the 
great mountain range in plain view. The Squire and I 
drove out to Lancaster one day to take in the trotting 
races, and saw one heat during a thunder showpr that 
made a miniature lake of the track. Here we met Judge 
ShurtleflF, who had just returned from his new camp at 
Mettaluk Pond, on the Magalloway; he said the fishing 
had been good. He invited us to make a trip to Maid- 
stone Lake, where a number of Lancaster gentlemen have 
a fine club house, but we were obliged to forego that pleas- 
ure for want of time. I had one fishing trip that is really 
worth mentioning, and that was up in Dummer, the place I 
wrote a short account of in the Foeest and Stream of 
Sept. 7, 1894. 
At 5 o'clock on Monday, Aug. 9, 1 drove into the yard in 
front of what is now called Chandler's Hotel, a thirty- 
eight- mile drive from Jefferson, more than half the dis- 
tance along the lovely Androscoggin River, with its sub- 
stantial farmhouses and its broad fields of grass never out 
of sight. John Chandler is a character; I suppose, indeedt 
1 have no doubt that he used to work; he has a big farm^ 
cuts a lot of hay, keeps a barn full of stock, but in all my 
goings and comings there I never saw John at work, that 
is, farm work; he goes fishing occasionally, and sometimes 
he has to carry a pack of stuff' to eat and a blanket to sleep 
under, sometimes he has to pull a boat, and that may be 
work; be works his jaw sometimes, to a stranger be might 
seem talkative, but to a Mend — one who knows him inti- 
mately — never. I am tempted to give his business card: 
"Wliat, second class? Certain. The only second class hotel in the 
United States. Chandler House, Dummer, N H. Famous at home 
and abroad for its bard beds, poor table and IntiBcient service. 
Terms the only thing flrst class. Under the mismanagr- meet of John 
H. Chandler, well-known as the stingiest man In New Hampshire." 
Just reverse this and you have the whole thing. A 
pleasantly situated house but a few rods from the Andros- 
coggin River, visible for miles sweeping in graceful curves 
through the broad meadows, on either side handtomely 
furnished rooms, with the best of bede, and a table loaded 
with good things cooked by Mrs. Chandler, all for $1 a 
day, and you have one of the famous places in the North 
country. Mrs. Chandler, her sister, Mrs. Adley, and the 
latter's daughter, Miss Ellen, greeted me cordially, and in 
