In July, 1902, my brother and a friend and I went to Culver's lake, Sussex county, New Jersey. This lake lies at the foot of a spur of the Blue mountains, through which the Delaware river runs at the Water Gap, 35 miles away. It is one of several lakes which find their way to the Delaware river through the Paulius Kill. The lake is 3 miles wide, 2 miles long and has a shore line of 8 miles. A ride of 3 hours on the D., L. & W railroad will take one to Branchville, the end of the line. From there it is a drive of 2 miles to Lyons' boat house, at the foot of the lake, where boats, bait, refreshments, etc., can be obtained; and visitors will find Frank, as Mr. Lyons is known to his friends, most accommodating.

The shores of Culver's lake are rocky, with the exception of the inlet, which is shallow and filled with moss and lily pads. This inlet is one of the finest spots I have ever seen for pickerel and we had some grand sport there, just before dark, casting live bait and getting a strike almost every time.

Along the Eastern shore are many good fishing spots. The best of these is near the old pine tree on the point about half way up the lake. The knowing ones anchor on the bar running out from Savage Point. On one side of the boat the water will be 10 feet deep and on the other it will be 25. In fact, the fishing is good all around the lake. There are any number of fish, but they change their feeding grounds. Small mouth bass, perch and pickerel are large and the catfish are the finest I have ever tasted. The fishing while I was there was far below the average. There was so much rain washing bait from the shore that the fish had all the food they wanted. The largest fish taken was 534 pounds.

The best way to enjoy life at Culver's is under canvas. I had a delightful spot for my camp and in my odd moments made it homelike and comfortable by

building rustic seats, etc. I had many callers to see the camp and try my Morris chair.

My cooking range attracted much attention. At first I made the regular camp range, with logs, and as usual it worked well except that I had to renew the logs every other day. I then made the same kind of a range using flat stones instead of the logs, and it was much better, but I

THE CAMP COOKING RANGE.

they stood firm and strong. On the crotches I placed 2 long sticks, one on each side, 3 inches in diameter. Then several one inch sticks were placed across, forming sort of a grate. The large flat stones I had used on the ground I then placed on each side, directly over the 3 inch logs to hold the weight. These stones were 8 inches high when placed in position. I covered the entire bottom, between the rows of flat stones, with small flat stones which covered the cross sticks. This allowed a good draft, no matter which way the wind blew, which was not always possible when the fire was on the ground. I drove 2 long crotched sticks in the ground, one at each end; a green stick over the fire to hang the pots and kettles on; and the range was complete. Two green sticks placed from one row of stones to the other hold the smaller cooking pans and can be as close together as is desired. The range can be made any size. Mine was 5 feet long, 2 feet wide and 3 feet high. It worked to perfection, the stones holding the heat a long while.

With the first range I made I had several accidents, one of which was rather amusing. I was in a hurry one morning to get down the lake to keep an appoint

ment and as I had neglected to waken early I had to rush my breakfast. I made the canoe ready while the fire was getting up; then put the oat meal to cook on the crossbars, with the coffee pot hanging over it. I had a small fire but it was burning well and was hot. All was ready but as I took the coffee pot from the hook it slipped from the end, made one half turn and landed top side down in the oatmeal pan, which also turned over, putting out the fire. I was 20 minutes late keeping my appointment, but I had my breakfast.

Almost every day someone would pass the camp and ask, "Are you not lonesome here?" I became so tired of the question that I made a sign on a strip of birch bark, "I am not," to which I pointed when the question was asked.

August 30th the farmers held their annual picnic, and as I was on the edge of the picnic grounds my camp was one of the attractions. I knew I would be bothered by the farmers' questions, so I built a fence of grape vine around the camp, and along the top of the fence I twined some running thorn vines. It was amusing to see the people come up to the fence, start to lean on the top and then find it was heavy.

I had some friends at camp that day, for a dinner of roast corn and flapjacks. While I was cooking the dinner a crowd lined up along the fence. They had never before seen the flapjacks flip, and were greatly interested.

One day I had Mr. and Mrs. Lyons, from the boat house, with some friends, at camp for a fish dinner. They had never eaten fish baked in mud in a camp fire. They pronounced the fish and roasted corn "the best ever."

I had several campfire parties, and every one greatly enjoyed them. I built the regular camp fires with the back log 8 feet long and 5 feet high; and the fire was grand when well under way. During the evening I served roasted corn, hot chocolate and watermelon. There was always a rush for the Morris chair, and it was seldom unoccupied.

To make that chair I cut 2 birch saplings 2 inches in diameter and 8 feet long and sharpened one end to drive in the ground at an angle of 25 degrees, or at any angle the chair is to be placed. Then I drove 2 crotched sticks well in the ground 3 feet, on the ground, from the long saplings, and slanting out, the ends of the crotches extending 4 inches above the long saplings. I placed a strong stick across the top of the extending crotches to support the seat.

I made the seat by twining strong grape

rest by driving a crotch in the ground on each side and placing a heavy stick on the top.

Just before I left the lake, a number of my friends from the city came up one Friday to spend Sunday and took a furnished cottage on the other side of the lake. Saturday morning it rained, so we all had to come in from fishing and enjoy ourselves as best we could. One of the boys had 2 reed poles out from the dock baited with frogs, while he sat on the porch out of the rain and watched the lines. He was talking and forgot all about fishing, until someone said:

The

"Great Scott! Look at that pole!" There it was, going out toward the middle of the lake, against the wind. way that fellow went down the path to the dock was marvelous. He jumped into a boat, nearly falling out he was so excited, tried to get the oar in the oarlock, but could not; so he took the oar and paddled, half the time the wrong way, till he was up to the pole.

In the meanwhile the fish had jumped nearly 2 feet out of the water, in plain view of the people in the 2 cottages, and its weight was estimated at 4 to 8 pounds.

As the man put down the oar and walked

toward the bow of the boat to grasp the pole, the boat went backward. The pole was 4 or 5 feet away and he could not reach it, so he sat down and used his hands as paddles. At last he was near enough to get hold of the pole, and the sport began.

With one grand effort he tried to lift that fish from the water, but could not do it. The pole bent as if it was fast to a "rock fish." He got hold of the line and started to pull in as if he had hold of the anchor rope. As a result, we all had one more view of the bass, as he broke the snell, which was a wire one, for pickerel. The fish landed on the side of the boat and flopped back into the water. It was over 4 pounds if it was an ounce. Talk about the air being blue! Then some one said: "Forget it."

Within 10 minutes every one had on a

storm coat and was out on the lake after that fish, but there was nothing doing.

The view to be obtained at Culver's, from the top of the mountain on the Northwest, is beautiful. New York, Pennsylvania and New Jersey can be seen distinctly. To the right is Lake Owassa. and the road winding through the trees like a long silver thread. On the other side of the mountain is the remains of another lake, now only a small pond, while in the distance is the hill that forms the Jersey side of the Delaware.

The walk to the mountain is popular, and parties go up every day, rowing to the landing on the other side of the lake near the inlet, walking back to the main road past 2 of the best springs in the State, whose water is only 2 degrees colder in the winter than in the summer, and then taking the path up the side of the mountain. The view is well worth the climb.