Lake Maxinkuckee

Anderson Herald (Indiana)
Aug 19, 1881
Lake Maxinkuckee

A Picturesque Indiana Resort - The Town of Maxinkuckee - Club House on the Lake -
Fising in the Lake - Recreation and Amusements - Adjacent Places of Interest -
A Moon light sail - The Seductive Hammock.

Special correspondeonce of the Herald
Lake Maxinkuckee, Aug, 6, 1881

My intentions, since I have been up here, have been truly laudable, but the execution of those intentions had been a signal failure at least, as far as anything involving the amount of mental labor has been concerned.

I have awakened day after day filled with such energy as to make me feel capable of battling with the most Herculean tasks; but alas, barring the first two hours after breakfast there is a miasmatic indolence in the air of Maxinkuckee, which totally irresistible, and before this seething, boiling energy could be turned to any accountit had simmered down to a placid indifference and disregard of books, letter-writing, or anything that line.

Don't you really think, though, it would be more delightful to be swinging lazily in a hammock, rocked by a fitful, caressing breeze, in a wood so thick and shady that the sunlight can only drop through the leaves in little drifts; to be gazing out upon the cool, restless, waters of the lake, with their foam-crested waves, and white sails skimming here and there; to be taling in a comfortable desultory fashion with one's alter ego, or to drift into dreamland, lulled by the monotomous by soothing beating and breaking of the waves against the shore.

"Where swells and fails
The deep bay's breast at intervals,
At oeace I lie,
Blowno softly by
A clould upon the languid sky."

THE TOWN OF MAXINKUCKEE

is in Marshall county, something over a hundred miles from Indianapolis, on the Indiainapolis, Peru and Chicago railroad, or rather nearest to it, for the railroad runs no nearer than Argos; from here passengers are conveyed to Maxkinkuckee in a stage, a distance of nine miles.

Lake Maxinkuckee is still a half a mile further than the town.

Maxinkuckee proper boasts of but one hotel, and although that is not considered a desirable stopping place, on accunt of its distance from the lake, it is crowded all the time.

Almost every one who is not familar with Indiana lakes is quite surprised at the extent of this one. I had expected to see it about three-fourths by one-half a mile instead of which its greatest width is three miles and length five. It is surrounded by high bluffs, covered with woods.

CLUB HOUSE ON THE LAKE.

There are now five clubs house on the lake, some of them capable of accoomdating from seventy-five to one hundred gueests; about adozen pretty cottages, and a score of tents. When all these places are filled, as they have been s ince the middle of July, it makes quite a little village.

The clubs are composed of from ten to fiften shareholders, shares costing from $100 to $250, according to the house location, etc. The stockholders are then entitled to transportation and board at very low rates. Some of the clubs being out of debt, receive boarders except quests of members; others not so well situated financially, are taking boarders to enanble them to get a more independent footing; some of thises make the great mistake made by every hotel at a summer resort, viz: taking a greater number of guests than they can accommodate, and at times such luxuries as rest and quiet are unknown.

The clubs are the:

"Highland" and

"Bay View" from Indianapolis;,

"Peru House"

and "Lake View", from Plymouth,

and a small club from Logansport.

The prettieest coattages are owned by

Mrs. VanVaklenburg of Plymouth,

and Messrs. Vagen,

McQuat,and

Judah of Indianapolis.

The cost of the cottages on the lake varies from $250 to $2,500.

FISHING AT MAXINKUCKEE

is decidedly below par. It was said to be quite good several years ago, but very poor now. A plane is on foot to have it stocked by the government next years, but if it should succeed it would be several years before the harvest would begin to ripen. Almost every evening one can notice a party of gentlemen, burdebed with such paraphernalia as dar-lanterns, revolvers, and suspicious-looking brown paper packages, silently making their way to some boat and skimming out into the darkness. The next morning at breakfast, if one happens to be "in the ring", one will be presented with a dish fit to "set before the king", in the estimation of some epicures, viz: frogs, if one is not in the "clique" one will eat one's steak and Saratogas with high and lofty disdain of such luxuries. The principal

RECREATION AND AMUSEMENTS

are bathing, rowing, sailing, picnics, hops and last but not least hammocks. Every afternoon, from 4 to 6 o'clockm the beaches in front of the houses will be crowded with bathers of every age, size and appearance; old and young, plump and thin, made-up and natural, in they go; diving, swimming, splashing and screaming like as lot of children. It is quite a study to watch them, particularly some of the fair ones who dash into the water with such total unconsciousness of tantalizingly dimpled shoulders and aarms as to remind one of

Saucy little Venuses
Rising from the sea;
Others so horris ugly
We shut our eyes and flee

THER ARE SEVERAL

places of interest which you cannot truthfull be said to have "done" Maxinkuckee, ubnless you have taken in. First, there is the "Landing", a long peir about half a mile distanct, near which stands a gaunt yellow building which is the "Grocery", and where the great staples are beer, cigars, and carmels. The amount of these articles disposed of at Maxinkuckee in one week would be startling and valuable statistical record. Next comes "Lost-Lake", which resembles nothing so much as a great dish of water lillies. The reeds and grasses are woven in such a tangled mesh that rowing is an impossibility and the boats are pushed through with the oars.

"Ny the grassy fringed river,
Through the murmurring reeds we sweep
Mid the lilly leaves that quiver,
To their very hearts we creep."

How many artless poses a pretty girl can poise if that sort of thing is in her line. Water-lilies, for instance, afford a good opporotunity. Does she imagine how coqutish that half-blown bud looks in her gold-borwn tresses, or fastened 'mid the flattering ribbons at her trim little waist? Does she think how tenderly caressing or caressible sh looks as she lays her pink cheek against the cool while blossom, and looking up into your facem says in her sweet clear voice: "Did you e ver see anything lovlier?" and you think - well you are postive, that to you, at least, the face is fairer and sweeter than any water-lily that ever grew.

Another notable place is the village of Marmont. Marmont is a distance of a couple of miles is as pucturesque a little view as one would wish to see; with its houses toned down to a soft gray by the distance, and half hidden by trees, and its white spire gleaming faintly against the cool, dark background. Marmont in close prospective is a perfect "Deserted Village", it stands on a little elevation about three hundred yards from the lake. A narrow plank walk winds up to it, through a marsh filled with flags and cat-tails.

Here these poor benighted people live, in sheer ignorance of the fact that they have the acme of high art, cat-tails, and peacocok feathers in their midst. Some of the young adies, however, who were esthetrically inclined, went into raptures over the discovery, and carried some home to paint from as if Maxinkuckee cat-tails were a superior breed. But neither the artistic cat-tails, not the picturesque, spire, or lonely weather-beaten houses, not hot sandy streets' are the attractions of Marmont.

Some nomadic photographer has pitched a tent there and daily crowds of fun-loving young people come, to become the possessors of dismal looking tin-types. When the lake is guiet the pictures are taken in boats on the water, and some are quite pretty; but pretty or not, it is one of the tings one must do, so why be critical?

There are some seven or eight sailing yachts on the lake, which are in great demand when there is a stiff breeze, I will tell you of

A Moonlight Sail

we took last nigh, and see if you can imagine anything more entancing. All afternoon the lake had been panting and breathless under the burning sun; not a slight sound nor sound of lifem for or near, save one becalmed sail, that looked

"As idle as a painted ship
upon a painted ocean.

Toward evening a little wind sprang up. The red and gold from the setting sun streamed in hot torrents over great banks of clouds, and were reflected in the water in a hundred beautiful tints; sheets of strong, bdeep blues, greens, and anber blended, or divided by long belts of tender pink, opal, palest amethyst, some distincly outlined, other faint shimmering tints, trembling and melting into one another in a manner totally indescribable. At last the wide sweep of water all one color, save where the white foam breaks over them, as if some filmy lace mantle had been thrown upon the water, and out of sheet filminess drifted to pieces. After a while a vivid red star gleams out, making a long, fiery path in the water, and another looking like melted emeralds and one of gold; these are the lights from the various clubs and cottages which are put out every night as signals. After awhile a faint light comes quivering through the leaves, and soon the moon in shining full and clear upon the lake; and while you are drinking in this loveliness a graceful boat lies before you, her trembling sails looking like the wings of some storm-driven bird fluttering upon the water. What more appropriate name for such a bird-llke apparition than "The Fleet Wing".

Henry Hart's famous string band, which is stationed at the Highland View for the summer, is one of the indispensible adjuncts of such a sail. Just to hear them break into the "sole-stirring: strains of "O, Those Golden Slippers", would almost awaken some emotion in an Egyptian mummy; then when "Golden Wedding", "Fannie Powell", etc., have made one sort of intocicated with the moonlight and music, there ius a little pause, broken only by the swash of the water as the boat cuts through the waves and some sympathetic mind-reader says: "Now, Henry Oliviette" and soon the weird, tender stains of the most equisite walz ever written are trembling on the air. Its quaint, undulating rythm makes one feel as if

"With dreamful eyes,
One's spirit lies
Under the wals of Paradise."

There was a yachting regetta one afternoon this week. It was interesting but not to the extent of being exciting, except to those who had a sufficient knowlegde of nautical tactics to appreciate the "pretty bits of sailing", and little manuevers by which different sailors took advantage of change of wind, shape if shore, etc. The successful boat was the the "Arletta", owned by Mr. Wheeler, of Plymouth. The prize, a long red, white and blue pennant, which they proudly sailed around the lake to exhibit next day.

There are from two to five "hops: every week among the clubs. Some morning as you go out to breakfast, you will see a card tacked on the door on which is written, "Compliments of the Peru House for Tuesday evening". This is a free-forall and will probably be a jam; again invitations are extended only to club members and friends; these are quite enjoyable. The grounds and houses are brillantly illumiinated; the dining room and reception rooms are thrown together, and there is dancing here and on the long wide porches; promenading through moonlit walks; little groups here and there on landings, steps and rustic seats and everything delightfully fascinating; and now we have drifted through the list of amusements of this idle, dolce-far-niente life, almost back to where we started, viz: to the hammocks swinging dreamily in the woods; a locust is carving the silence into little bits; a bird trills a lazy scrap of song; the hammock swings slower lower. There is a tiny glint of sunshine creeping into your face pull you hat over your eyes a little and leave you.

"adrift, adrift on slumber's seas."

"Olivette".