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��Lake Winnifiseogee in October.
��find here what he seeks. The invig- orating lake breeze braces up the in- valid, adds bloom to the cheek of beauty, and is creative of an appetite that Vitellius Caesar or Heliogabalus might have envied.
At the southern point of the lake is Alton Bay, a quiet hamlet shut in by hills. Originally christened Mer- ry Meeting Bay, it was the earliest settled place on the lake, dating back to the year 1710. Its earlier history is tragic with Indian surprisals and massacres. But the memory of those far away events scarcely troubles one now as he gazes upon the little village slumbering so quietly in its sheltered nook. As you approach it from the lake it looks like a miniature Venice amid its lagoons. The boat winds its way among the numerous islands, giv- ing the traveller occasional glimpses of roofs and spires among the trees, until, all at once, the bay opens, and there is the village nestling on the shore, watched over by the guardian hills that surround it. There are not a few delightful mountain drives in the neighborhood, and magnificent views of the lake are obtained from the sum- mits of the surrounding hills. The Bay View House is the largest hotel, and is pleasantly located, and affords at reasonable price excellent accom- modations to its guests.
Another delightful point on the lake is Lake Village, in the township of Gilford. Long Bay, an arm of the great lake, stretches down like a kuife- ])lade. The village reposing on its shore is lovely as a poet's dream. Happy is he who has yet to take a first view of Winnipiseogee from the ridge above the village. Leaving the busy little mart, with its mills, facto-
��ries, and machine shops, we wander up through the fields to a pleasant terrace. With the town at our feet, we look down upon the Beautiful Water. It is a scene for an artist. Woods and fields and charming isl- ands, the mirrory lake, and the mountains beyond, all disclose a land- scape of remarkable beauty. We have gazed upon it often, and each time we discover new beauty in the scene.
But our pilgrim feet cannot linger forever in this " Land of Beulah." Half regretfully we take our last boat- ride on the lake. It is the last of Oc- tober, but the day is warm, the sun- shine golden. What charms of color enshrine the shores ! and below, how the waters change at every passing breeze ! Now it is blue, now gray, purple, azure. The lake is like an opal. Its chameleon hues are won- derful. Yonder is a shore where the tall and stately pine borders the wa- ter line with living green. Under- neath there is a mound of heaped earth. Can you not fancy the soul of some grim old sagamore lying under those waving boughs? Now we pass an island in the lake. What an en- trancing shore ! Surely Circe might reign there, or Calypso hold there a Ulysses in enchantment. Fairy Ariels and Peablossoms come to one's mind, and all the splendid richness of "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
" The velvet grass seems carpet meet For the light fairies' lively feet; Yon tufted knoll with daisies strewn Might make proud Oberon a throne, While, hidden in the thicket nigh, Puck should brood o'er his frolic sly ; And where profuse the wood-vetch clings Round ash and elm in verdant rings, Its pale and azure pencilled flower Should canopy Titania's bower."
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