The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1911-09-07
here was no record to cause tear, OF

bearing names familiar, and some to
me unknown. The names carved on
the stately stones recalled many an in
dividual personality 10 me, the times
and places when we met and the events
of such meetings, the gatherings in
the old school house at debates and
spelling schools and other meetings,
later such gatherings at Temperance
Hail." which has now disappeared,
though an evidence of worthy cause,
and deserving of better end; all, all
came back to me in few short min
utes and "tloated through my memory
like shadows over streams" Alone
with the dead and the tombstones, and
the memories they awakened, ! came
away more chastened than if | had list
ened to an eloquent sermon. Stones
have tongues, and the dead though
de ad, oft speak. SIT is not all of life
to live, nor all of death to die" The
tenderils of love make the dead speak.
That Sunday, Mailman of ST. Nazi-
anz, the quaint village with the euph-
onious name, held ''gross picnic in a
pine grove on the north bank of Pig
con Lake, and hundreds of people at
tended, coming in automobiles, teams
and rigs of all kinds, from Kiel to Man
itowoc, and from Sheboygan to
"Schnappsville," until one would think
every other point in both counties was
deserted and here was gathered the
population of the two. The merry
strains of music floated out over the
quiet waters, conveying an inetfaceable
sweetness that no one but he who has
heard it can understand, walters whirl-
ed in the mazes of the dance, the click
of the rifle told sharp shooting was in
progress, many games entertained and
| whiled away time for many, drink and
eatables were galore, and best OF all
men met and talked and parted with
no trouble to mar the meeting. That
is genuine fellowship. In the evening
| sat on the porch of the old home with
dear ones, and listened to the strains
of the music as it came to us across the
two lakes, mellowed and softened, if
not sweetened by distance and the
| waters over which it hoated to us. 1t
was inexpressibly sad and sweet. AT
night the picnic grounds lit up by many
lanterns and artificial lights, at dis
tance looked beautiful; the pale light
| and the dark evergreenS shimmering
in its rays made pleasing contrast,
| while the sweet aroma of the pines
gave balm to weakened lungs and slim
ulated tired beings to renewed effort.
Truly, here "There was sound of re-
velry by night" and "All save the
spirit of man, was divine" Next day
nature held sway again.
With railroad near it Pigeon Lake
| with its pure, springfield waters, and
high, beautiful shores, its pretty little
island around which so many beautiful
| romances cluster; its fine fishing
| and fish, the sweetest ever caught in
| any waters, the remnant of the prime
| val pine forest yet left, with its balm
| giving odorS curative and healing to
| afflicted humanity, its isolation and
quiet and consequent attractiveness to
the rest seeking tourist, would make it
one of the ideal summer resorts in
Wisconsin. Every one well knows that:
| "There is society where none intrudes,
BY the deep sea, and music in its roar" "
The silent camp, the waving tree,
the stiffness of the forest, the moan of
the wind through the bending pine,
'the thousand voices of the night
heard as one camps far from human
habitation, the glimpse of the floating
cloud or shining moon, the shrek of
passing train, the toll of bell in the
distance, the croak of the raven as
startled by the knowledge that man is
near him he flies away; and the many
other sounds OF nature charm, cleanse,
strengthen and purify the lone camper,
and drive out the sordidness and selfish
ness of humanity, and conveys lesson
of liberality in all things and which
betters, elevates and benefits him and
humanity.
A week of such vacation, rusticat-
ing, is productive of more health and
happiness than year in the crowded
mart of bustling city,
And yet, it is just as true as the poet
sings:
'It is sweet to hear the honest watch
dog bark,
Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw
near home;
1t is sweet to know there is an eye will
mark,
Our coming, and look brighter when
we come;
| 1t is sweet to hear the hum of bees,
the song of birds,
| The lisp of children and their earliest
words"
| This is the contrast of nature un-
touched, and civilization as we know it
today. Meme as it was and as we
knew it, and Meeme as it is today. |
like to revisit it but its changed form
has not the charms that the memories
of the old have for me.
August 81, 1911. A MEEMEITE.
/
OBSERVE LABOR DAY.