MACMILLAN BOOKS 
ON THE OUT-OF-DOORS 
BOOKS—which will make your vacation enjoyable 
If you fish in the waters of the Nipigon—if you follow the trail of 
the elk in the Jackson Hole country, if you scale the picturesque 
Yosemite for marvels of photography, if you tour the White Moun¬ 
tains with your motor and trailer, if you play the famous West- 
chester-Biltmore golf course, if you turn ornithologist, or if you 
manage an outdoor camp or playground this summer—you will 
want these books. 
This carefully selected list of books is chosen from our large list 
of Out-of-Doors Books and Outing Handbooks Series, circular of 
which may be had on request. 
THE WAY OF A TROUT WITH A 
PLY By G. E. M. Skues 
With colored Ulus. $7.00 
THE FINE ART OF FISHING 
FISHING KITS AND EQUIPMENT 
By Samuel G. Camp Each, $1.00 
TAXIDERMY 
By Leon H. Pray 
CAMP COOKERY 
By Horace Kephart 
PACKING AND PORTAGING 
By Dillon Wallace ol.OO 
MODERN GOLF 
By Harold H. Hilton 
$ 1.00 
OUTDOOR PHOTOGRAPHY 
By Julian A. Dimock $1.00 
THE SPORT OF BIRD STUDY 
Illus. $2.50 
HOW TO STUDY BIRDS— Illus. $1.50 
By Herbert K. Job 
THE COMPLETE SCIENCE OF 
FLY FISHING AND SPINNING 
By Fred G. Shaw 
Illustrated $14.00 
HOW TO KNOW WILD FRUITS 
By Maude G. Peterson 
New edition. Col. illus. $2.00 
CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT 
By Horace Kephart 
New edition in 1 Vol. $3.00 
GAMES FOR PLAYGROUND, HOME, 
SCHOOL AND GYMNASIUM 
By Jessie H. Bancroft 
Illustrated $3.00 
At all bookstores 
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
64-66 FIFTH AVENUE 
HOTEL 
ST. JAMES 
TIMES SQUARE 
NEW YORK CITY 
Just off Broadway 
at 
109-113 W. 45th St. 
MUCH FAVORED BY WOMEN 
TRAVELING WITHOUT ESCORT 
“Sunshine in Every Room” 
An hotel of Quiet dignity, having the atmosphere and ap¬ 
pointments of a well conditioned home. 
40 theatres, all principal shops and churches, 3 to 5 
minutes’ walk. 
2 minutes of all subways, “L” roads, surface cars, bus 
Within 3 minutes Grand Central, 5 minutes Pennsylvania 
Terminals. 
Send Postal for Rate and Booklet 
W. JOHNSON QUINN, President 
NEW Y ORK CITY 
Let us make you feel “at home” in 
the city of robust health 
Write for Booklet 
HOTEL MORTON 
Virginia Ave. 
EZRA C. BELL 
Atlantic City 
PAUL M. COPE 
170 rooms with running water and 
telephone service, including 50 suites 
with private bath. Auto bus at sta¬ 
tion. Garage, orchestra, white service. 
500 feet from Boardwalk and Steel Pier 
to be given back again, just as he had 
found it, fresh, and clean and un¬ 
spoiled. That had always been my 
code. 
Inquiry brought the information that 
it was no easy undertaking to reach 
the farm on the hill. It lay miles 
distant, up, up, up, along a little fre¬ 
quented, uncertain path through dense < 
woods. And this path led ever up¬ 
ward. Few automobiles attempted to 
negotiate it. Save in mid-summer, it 
was a desolate and remote place. The 
road we must follow was one that had 
been left behind by ancestral explora¬ 
tion and pioneering. The men who had 
originally built it were no more. In 
places it was quite overgrown. Back 
in the deep forest, beyond the farm we 
sought, lived a man and his sister, as 
much cut off from civilization, as if 
left on an island in the sea. Some¬ 
times they drove or walked down that 
long trail, to town. In Winter it was 
well night impassable. We were headed 
in the direction of a sort of No-man’s- 
land, primeval and—wonderfully pic¬ 
turesque. 
And there were whispered words of 
wonder that anyone should want to go 
there. 
I persisted. A livery stable boy of 
nineteen, who hunted those same 
regions in winter, agreed to take us 
up the trail in his wagon, for a fat 
fee. And so we put in a stock of pro¬ 
visions and, just as twilight was com¬ 
ing on, jogged out of Milford, across 
a fussy little stream (which I later 
learned came from a larger mountain 
stream and waterfalls of the Pinchot 
Estate) and up the twisting, writhing, 
always attractive “road”—to Romance. 
The season of the year was pro¬ 
pitious, as you may well imagine. 
Now we were flanked on one side by 
pines and firs, so close knit that the 
shadows beneath them were jet. 
Again we came out into open places, 
where wild apple trees blossomed, and 
the fields were sweet with blends of 
fragrant perfume. And now, beneath 
the protecting trees, billowy areas of 
full-blossom mountain laurel, teased 
out of season by altitude or shade, 
glowed purple and lavender and mellow 
white, in the evening’s benediction of 
color. 
Rabbits darted across our path at 
frequent intervals and once there was 
a whirr and hum and melodic song of 
pheasant wings, as a golden and me¬ 
tallic flash momentarily reached our 
vision. 
Our gasolinic charger put us off, 
atop a towering mountain peak, after 
much changing of gears and . many 
anxious moments, and there, in the 
dusk and quiet and lowering night 
shadows, we more fully, appreciated the 
meaning of “comradeship.’ 1 
For ten minutes afterward, we could 
In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. 
Page 403 
It ivill identify you. 
