Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-13
Composite of Sea, Mountains,
Forests, Farm and
Boardwalk.
STEP FROM SURF TO GLADE
Man With Wistful Eye Wants Some
One to Build the Right Sort
of Combination.

| The man with the wistful eye and the per-
spring forehead impatently brushed aside
| the large stack of summer resort booklets
| heaped up on his desk.
| II wonder" he said, when somebodyll
| start composite summer resort?
What l want is little bit of every
| thing and every place adverted to in that
| mess Of summer resort literature. And l
want it all brought together within re-
stricted area-compactly embraced. Wen
| say, within district about twenty miles
square-so that doing and seeing and living
it all wouldn't involve too much hiking
about, hither and yon.
THE composite summer resort that
have in mind would offer little bit of every
| sort of climate. l want the cool. crystal
| clear zephyrs Of far northern forests-and
| the zephyrs Whispering through the larches
| and pines and scattering the halsamic fra
grances-in combination with the wild sweet
| these brands of breezes. Where can | get
! them both within a restricted radius until
! the composite summer resort is started?
II want to lean over the verge of a great
| river near the end of its long journey to
| the sea, and listen to its tapping lispings in
| the lush shore grass and among the softly
! Hacking reeds. l want to stretch off on the
| messy rim Of some petulant. haranguing
whimsical complaints as it scampers, all
| a-foam, a-down its rocky bed. l want to lie
| back in a skif on the bosom Of an emerald
green lake and hearken unto the baby
wavelets purring against the gunls. And
l want to hear the boom of giant green seas
dashing against basaltic crags, and watch
| the spume and spindrift blowing over sand
| dunes and seaWeed-lttered hillockS. AS
summer resorts are at present arranged and
designed. l couldn't do all of these things
without hopping around in hot cars over
| radius of several hundreds of miles.
Il want the simple life and the siren
| uous life in combination and little bit Of
each every day.
From Boardwalk to Woods.
For an hour or so of the forenoon. say.
| I want to cork off on the sand at place
| like Atlantic City. we'll say, and watch
| about nineteen thousand Cythereas in gls-
| tening sIlken or mohair bathing suits sky
larking about and screaming over the wet
| ting of their tootses. and toying with their
| drying tresseS, and tying their sandals and
things Then, presto! l want to climb on
| board the magical carpet and be whisked
| to open grassy space in huge dim for
est and watch the sunlight sitting through
| the leaves and checkerng the moss. and
| listen unto the pipes Of Pan and the horns
/ of elfland family blowing-listen. even If
that music never sounds except In the ear
| Of the imagination.
| Il want to bide a while a boardwalk
| with pretty, chattering women. all bedked
| in their flmy morning costumes, and talk
| fool talk with them about the comings and
goings and doings In the world OF artifice.
| Then, having a-plenty of that. / would like
| instantly to be transported to a cool noun
| tain road. where. in rough clothes and moe
| caSins, and a stout stick cut from tree in
| my hand l could trudge along with a whole
! passed. OF bounding, friendly dogs attending
| me; any old kind Of dogs, yaller and thor
oughbred Just so they were dogs, and
| dina tl1rp
| for rabbits, investigating little creeks and
| acting like fool, happy-hearted dogs out on
| a tramp with a two-legged creature that
| they like and trust.
Il want to spend an afternoon or so on a
| velvety lawn, under Tapping marquee,
| slipping sherbets and watching those young
| persons who like to work q whole lot play
tennis and rogue. But right on top of this
| l want the antidote of twilight in a CAM
| on the sweeping prairie, with the fragrance
| of the wild roses. and a chance to cork off
| for the night in the open. under the wise,
| informing, cautioning stars, and to think
| it all over while thus supine.
From Brass Band to Guitar.
| II want to sit on a steel-supported ocean
pier and listen to band led by an eccen-
trio Sicilian or Magyar or Czech with much
hair. thump and blare gorgeously through
| the 'Goetterdaemmerung' music or the
punches of tone color that depict the Val
| kyrleS lOO1DeatlnB IL through Inc eCIlOlHB
mead-halls of Valhalla; or l want to hear
| the hirsute Hungarian dipping through
witchng Czardas for the delectation of
throngs Of melowed ones leaning back
| with half-eiosed eyes in girishiy.lghted
seashore gardens. But. as an offset to
| this sort of musical debauchment, l want
| to be Immediately whisked to the stern
| sheets Of little catamaran on lake, with
| a girl alongside idly stunning foolish
sentimental things on guitar; or. better.
| I want to walk through village street at
| night, with the cool smell OF the honey
| suckle diffused about and listen to some
| ina gnative boy playing from his heart on
| q lucent mouth organ. But I'd like to
| have you tell me how l am going to get
an ocean pier in combination with or JuX-
! taposition to a quiet village where the little
| church spires stand out with u sort Of
| sweet mournfulness in the moonlight
| "Id like-if 1 knew how-to emulate these
| chaps of whom we see pictures in the sum
| mer resort booklets standing. with rubber
! boots M around their thighs. in clamorous
| mountain torrents, snagging muskies and
| inland salmon and rainbow trout. and crafty
| creatures of that sort, out OF deep lmpid.
shady holes But. very soon after INDUCING
| in that sort of piscatorlal virtuosity, I'd
| like to just row an old. hat-bottomed skiff
| out into the middle of just an everyday, or
binary river-me wearing ornery clothes
and smoking a corncob pipe-and drop just
| a plain trfiin' hand-line over the side of
| the skiff-'skift' is the way 1t ought to be
pronounced-and catch just the plain kind
| of fish; little old catfish, and wabbly perch
and sunfsh and jggerses like that that
| don't set up for any great shakes. using for
| bait not fancy flies that come all wrapped
| and swaddled in oiled paper, bat just wums,
| son-wums. dug from the back yard with
| an old rusty spade. That's what l call
| fshin'-some fshin'! And I'd like to do
| that angling thing always. remember. with
those rubber boots pulled away up about
| my thighs solely for the fun of enjoying
| real fishin when l got through spending
| three or four weeks trying to bamboozle
| rainbow trout to fall for my wies and
| pretty-colored flies.
From Run to Spring Water.
Eyes. and I'd like to spend a night or so
| vamping up and down the line of rumoriums
at a sophisticated resort where 1t all is,
getting picked and turning in middllng I'M
! steady, If, Immediately upon become a"eary
| of that l could be set down in clean
sweet inland cabin where there was nothing
| to drink but spring water. clean as dew
in the petals of lilies. and creamy clover
milk In crooks on shelf on the shady
side-thus to make all the more keen the
| lows of sobrety. For you can take II from
me land | know that it's the iine thihg TO
wake I'D in the morning with u merry
| heart and an inclination to whistle. and
| an appetite for lumberjack's breakfast
and a hearty desire to go on living and
1