The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 15, 1897, Page 17

@Call SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY MORNING, AUGUST 15, 1897. 2 ALIFORNIA’S Summer Girl of the Lakes can row and swim and fish, She can also do a great many other things as well as other summer girls can, but ’tis not on such things that her charm depends. She can dance, of course, but she loves better still to be out on the water where the sunis warm and she can hear the splash of the waves beating against the prow of her boat. She loves water as the stars love night. 3 5 Would you see this Summer Girl of the Lakes in all her glory? If so you must go to the lakes, for she cannot be seen anywhere else. The lakes referred to are in Lake County, only about eighty miles from San Francisco. When you get there you will be in Paradise. All around the shores of Clear Lake, Blue Lake and Laurel Dell Lake is where our Summer Girl lives. You can see her almost anywhere that you chance to look, and each fresh vision of her is lovelier than the last. The Summer Girl of the Lakes is a happily blended combination of the society belle and the “rough- ing it” girl. She does not spend her time attiring herself in extravagant gowns of silk and lace, nor does she knock about in bloomers. Not she. Extravagant gowns are a waste of time and bloomers are not pretty, in spite of their many advantages in the way of comfort. So our Summer Girl will have none of them. But after all she needs them not, for she has a charm of her own without them. See her tripping down the path in a gown of white and a sailor hat. What could be more becom- ing? What could bring out the roses in her cheeks with fuller freshness or permit greater ease of move- ment? See how freely she steps. Now she has reached the tiny skiff moored to the landing and without a moment’s hesitation jumps in. Seizing the oars she gives a long pull and a strong pull and in a moment the frail craft is far out on the surface of the lake. Our Summer Girl of the Lakes is an early riser. She is not rash enough to leave her couch while the stars are still shining and the vapors of the night still hang over the face of nature. To do that she would have to retire with the birds and by doing so would miss one of the charms of her summerland. But just atter old Sol has peeped out from his hiding place behind the hills and all the world is aglow with light and . warmth she comes forth. . The first act of the day is a plunge into the clear waters of the lake. Attired in a natty bathing suit our Summer Girl runs to the nearest boat landing and dives in, rising a2 moment later with the water sparkling like diamonds in her hair. With free, bold strokes she strikes out sending the water whirling behind her in curling eddies. Sometimes our girl is not content with a dive from one of the landings, but jumps into one of the skiffs and rows out to deep water. Here she stands a moment in the stern of the boat and then disappears beneath the water like a dolphin. Down, down, how deep she goes! It seems as if she will never come up, but she does, looking for all the world like a mermaid. Round and round her little skiff she swims until she is healthily tired. Then she climbs in over the stern and rows back to her bathhouse, from which she emerges with her cheeks aglow and her eyes dancing for the very joy of living. Later in the day, when old Sol is high in the heavens and the air quivers with warmth, our Sum- mer Girl goes fishing. And she catches fish. She knows how to bait her hook herself and also how to talke the fish off after she has caught it. Sometimes she fishes from a boat and sometimes from the shore, casting the hook out among the water lilies and waiting patiently for a bite. But fishing from a boat is the most fun. Our Summer Girl knows all about the kind of bait and tackle that she needs, and, rowing far out from land, she is soon tempting the finny tribe. If possible, she goes out where the water is very deep and finds a place where she can see the fish swimming about in its emerald depths. Here she drops her line and watches the hook sink toward the bottom, sending up a tiny stream of bubbles just to let her know that it is getting along all right. At first the fish are a little shy of it, but in a few minutes commence to investigate. First a little fellow goes up near and as he suffers no harm a larger one comes along and chases him away. But somehow the bait doesn’t look just right to the big fellow and he watches carefully as if making up his mind about taking it. ‘ While he is doing this a larger one than he comes from somewhere like a flash of light and in an instant all is commotion. But our Summer Girl knows that her time has come and commences to haul in. It only takes a few moments before the big fish is floundering in the bottom of the boat and the line is cast for another. And so our Summer Girl puts in a part of her day, returning to shore with a good string and an ap- petite to match it. Later in the day our Summer Girl takes a ride or drive, or perhaps a long walk over the hills and returns in time for dinner, just tired enough to enjoy a quiet rest on the piazza. The sun is just sinking behind the hills and the purple twilight is spreading over the land. The air is quiet and soothing and all nature is peaceful. Even after darkness has settled over the world our Summer Girl continues to enjoy herself. "When the moon has risen over the hills she rows out on the lake and then drifts about idly, floating between heaven and earth. Or, perhaps she dances on the broad piazza or rests gracefully in a large comfortable chair. But soon her day ends and she retires, ready to begin it all over again on the morrow. Such is the Summer Girl of the Lakes. o R CLEAR LAKE PENINSULA