Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1924-09-18
Hugh Kelley at Devils Lake


Returning home after four long,
bloody years as an active mem Der
of the gallant 23rd Wisconsin, Vol
unteers. Thomas B. Scott took Cap.
Pratt and the writer out to Devils
Lake for fishing party. We spent
the day with rather poor success,
and in the evening the genial Noble
Kirk suggested that we remain at
his home all night that we might
get onto the water early in the
morning. This kind offer we read
lily accepted.
Last Sunday Miss Mary Terry
invited wife and | out to her cot
tage on the south shore of Devils
Lake for dinner. In the evening
our host took the train for Milwau-
kee to enter her duties as instruc-
tor in the schools of that city. Be
fore leaving she generously offered
us the use of the cottage, boats
and all accessories, for the week,
or as much longer as we saw fit
to remain. To this kind offer we
acceded for the same reason that
Prof. Hutchins used to say he chew
ed tobacco" just for fun. ;"
Now between these two "epi-
sodes something like 81 years
have interviewed, and | must admit
many changes have taken place,
Park superintendent Smith, and
Ii d. Prader and depot agent, Billy
Hayes, made many and wonderful
improvements for the pleasure and
comfort of the thousands of tour
lists who visit this beauty spot each
season. But | find the same old
gray granite mountains, with their
Jagged peaks combing the fleecy
clouds of heaven; mute witnesses
to the majestic workings of the
infinite creator as compared with
the frail efforts of finite man. The
same old pine trees, hOary with
their hundred years, Haunting their
fronded peaks in the angry face OF
the storm king. How appropriate
that this specie should furnish our
Christmas trees, for they stand high
up on the mountain top the near
est Heaven of any tree that grows.
And the same lake of sparkling
waters mirroring back the beau
ties of the verdure clad hills The
poet, B. |. Durward, says:
From this high pinnacle, fair
friend, behold
The many-colored jewel meath us
lie!
Emerald from leaves, and sapphire
from the sky,
With myriad sunlit diamond
sparks untold
And clear as shriven soul to God 5
own eye.
~ yonder, band
Of little children wading we des-
cry
Upon the western margin, but
so far
We cannot see their little rosy feet
Or hear their voices. Q how calm
and sweet
Is this pure air we breathe! The
dust and jar
OF crowded cities we have left,
and find
Nature, like thee, is beautiful and
kind"
Look! here are a bevy of Illinois
maidens bathing. and, oh gee, you
can see more than their ''rosy
feet" From their abbreviated cos
tunes one would imagine the poor
darlings had been attacked by a
shark while in the water. We are
told that Mother Eve wore a f1g
leaf. but the modern dame, before
adopting this style, would have to
be assured they were of the dwarf
variety.
Looking across the lake in the
early twilight it is pleasing to
watch the blue smoke curling UP
through the tree tops from hun
dred of pines where tourists are
preparing the evening meal. But
this is not a modern scene: from
these same forests assembled the
smoke from the council fires OF
dusky savages long ages before the
Catholic monarch, Queen Isabella,
purchased this new world with
the imperial jewels she tore from
her royal bosom. A few hours la
fer the stars comes blinking
through the blue immensely of
space. And as they peer down up
on the camps on Messenger shore
of the biologists and engineers
from our great universities, they
seem to me like the eyes of plying
angels watching the feeble efforts
of these young men as they labor
to solve the mysteries of the uni
verse. 1t is interesting to hear