The New era. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1865-1871, 1866-08-09
LAKE GEORGE AND VICINITY--FR0M
SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT
GLENs FALLS, \. V,
August |, 1866.

months. The faShionableS, ana un-1ash-
;onables have swarmed from out the
heated cities, and yet one cannot find
them.
They are not at Saratoga, for the
Hotelsare scarcely filed; not at Newport,
where the landlords declare they cannot
pay their servants; not at Lake Mo-
hopac, that very popular resort last
season; not at the Mountain House.
in fact the frequented summer resorts
know them not now. Where are they:
4 late trip to Lake George, the
Indians holy water" solved some
what, the mystery to me. think we
discovered a .feW of the missing mortals.
Not at the Fort VIM. Henry House did
we find them, where the broad balconies
are so favorable to the display of grand
toilette, and the fine band on moon-llt
night disposes one to he f1irtatious and
fashionably sentimental, and where the
mirrored walls of the vast drawing
rooms cast back unpleasant reflections,
should one happen to intrude in plain
dress and manner. No, not there, nor
ct the Lake House below, nor at the
" United States" which has not even
been opened this season, nor at " Boil
ton's," so prim, nice, and very proper.
Not at any of these places did we find
the wanderers, but came across them in
all sorts of out-of-the-way places, and
odd corners nesting in the many little
buildings perched on the mountain-side,
and tenting on the islands which dot SO
profusely the pure bosom of the lake.
When we ran against party it was
invariably jolly one, bound for fish
ing excursion, chowder party or pic
mic, and dressed accordingly. Such
outre bonnets, and cabbage-leaf sum
hats! Such immense comfortable boots
and shoes, and such hospitable looking
boxes and baskets of good things for the
refreshment of the inner man! Surely
the fashionable world is coming to its
senses
One lovely star-lit night a party of
eight drifted six miles from the lake,
and stopped at the "Trout Pavilion
comfortable little building, standing
Just at the foot of the mountain, on the
edge of the silvery waters. There we
spent glorious week enjoying ourselves
sa1ls cerenOnie.
Before the morning hue had changed
he silver sheen to gold, we were out
diligently fishing for bull-heads, perch,
and those most d licious Of all fish,
trout say "we," because l shared in
the honor ofbringing them ashore before
admiring eyes, but being somewhat
given to dreamy forgetfulness, / seldom
pulled in my line until my scaly captive
had escaped bold captor Of my bait.
Still shared the honor, and felt very
PROUD and appreciative when we sat
down to our nicely cooked fish-break-
fast.
Then such nights as we spent on that
great silver shield, against heat and
dust! Dreamily we drifted down the
waters into the e-fringed creek among
the lily-pods, holding up their fragrant
cups of cleaning white, the mountains,
touched by the dying rays OF sunlight,
cloudlets of crimson and gold, and the
young moon hanging above our heads
sending down across our pathway a
silver arrow of light. Is tia wonder we
relapsed into admiring silence, and felt
somewhat disguised on our return home.
at the un-romantic greeting of our
friends just in from fish: :" Hurrah |!
for a trout supper. We've had such
luck ~
Thanks to the kin iness of the pilot of
the pretty little steamer " Minnehaha, >"
we had Il fine opportunity to view all
the beauties and objects of interest on
Lake George. During our trip to the
foot of the lake we passed the three
hundred and sixty-five islands, SIT like
emeralds in its silver bosom, some of
them scarce holding a half dozen trees,
which seem to spring without foun-
dation from the waves. As the morning