The new library school with its splendid outfit was of great interest to former students in the party who remembered the cramped and migratory quarters in the old school. Every feature that experience had suggested and foresight could devise seemed to be there to aid and inspire the student. The older students noticed with pleasure the portraits of Mr. Dewey and Mrs. Fairchild which adorned the walls of the main class room. Miss Woodworth had prepared a temporary exhibition of class photographs which aroused pleasing memories. The interest was divided between gratification at the growth in strength of character and success of the earlier classes and mirth at their costumes. A permanent exhibition which is the special pride of Miss Woodworth is the collection of work by the school alumni. This contains library reports, bulletins, and lists prepared in whole or in part by former students. There are also many books along historical and literary lines, photographs of libraries planned or remodeled by library school graduates, and photographs of the former students. This collection was most interesting in its tangible evidence of the success of the students. Miss Woodworth wants to make this collection as nearly complete as possible and a credit to the school. All former students are urged to send her a set of all their work, either printed or typewritten, and photographs of their libraries and of themselves, both when they were students and as they are now. All material sent to the school before the fire was burned.
On the next day, Sunday, all departments of the library were open to the visiting librarians and all went a second time to see by daylight the splendid rooms, so admirably equipped and planned to give quick and efficient service to the reader. All left the library with a feeling of admiration for the knowledge, skill, and executive ability of those who had created from nothing in less than two years one of the great world libraries.
On Monday morning at an early hour we were hurried to the train to secure seats in the dining-car. Our English friend was aghast at this American custom of "first come, first served" so early in the morning, and we had to admit that in this case a previous booking of seats would have been more comfortable. We had the unexpected comfort, however, in this case, of early breakfast in a stationary dining-car. Our route that morning was through the Mohawk Valley along the Erie Canal with its placid mode of travel. Glimpses of the foothills of the Adirondacks broke up the monotony of the journey through this level country and gave us hints of the mountain scenery to come. The name "Adirondacks" suggested the rough, mountain wilderness and we were eager to reach it. At Utica we turned north and soon began to climb. The country became wilder and occasional log houses suggested pioneering. At Fulton Chain station we left the main line of the Adirondack division of the New York Central and in a short time our special car, which was now rather hot and dusty, was deserted at Old Forge for the little steamer on the First Lake of the Fulton Chain. We were in the wilderness at last and enjoyed to the utmost the few hours' ride through this chain of beautiful lakes. Hills and mountains were on all sides clothed with the forests in all their glory of early summer greenery. There were few signs of civilization and we felt as remote from our daily tasks of doing good to others as the most reprobate could desire.
Early in the afternoon we reached Eagle Bay Hotel at the head of Fourth Lake, our headquarters for several days. Our long delayed dinner was most welcome, as glorious air and scenery somehow fail to satisfy all physical needs. That afternoon, while exploring the shore of the lake, we made our acquaintance with the Adirondack open camp, or "lean-to", lined with balsam boughs on which to sit or lie in the evening and spin yarns while the campfire blazes in front. We all wanted to try the game and those who had cameras took appropriate pictures. We must have come at the wrong time of the year, however, for, alas for the romance of an Adirondack lodge, no one seemed to care to brave the attacks of the mosquitos and flies which filled the woods about sundown. All sought the refuge of the hotel piazza enveloped in a stifling smudge from burning green hay or retired early to well screened bedrooms to catch up on the lost sleep question.
Tuesday morning we started for Blue Mountain Lake over the Raquette Lake Railroad. Until within a few years this country was an almost unbroken wilderness and the road even now runs through the heavy woods in a clearing so narrow that the trees shade the train and the full effect of the forest can be enjoyed. The trip through Raquette Lake, the "queen of the Adirondacks" which owes it name to its very irregular outline, gave many opportunities for those with cameras to get fine pictures. From Raquette Lake there was a short trip along Marion River winding through a stretch of forest famed for deer hunting. Then came a portage to Utowana Lake of about a mile by a primitive train of discarded Brooklyn open horse-cars drawn by a diminutive locomotive over a creaking railroad.
Our English friend was much interested in the fauna of the Adirondacks and we hoped at this point we could show him at least one bear. Perhaps the Adirondack bears like those in the Yellowstone are shy early in the summer visitor season, for we did not get a glimpse of one of them. The only fauna we saw aside from the birds were chipmunks, red squirrels, one woodchuck, and two rabbits. In Eagle Lake we passed the famous old eagle's nest and some of the ladies were in raptures over the herons which they thought were eagles. We passed beavers' houses, which we admired on faith, since no one had ever seen beavers working on them. On Blue Mountain Lake even the most self-contained became enthusiastic over its beauties. From its charm of outline, its wooded and rocky islands, its purity and loveliness, it well deserves its claim as the pearl of all the wilderness waters. It claims with Lake Placid to be the loveliest lake in the eastern states. Across the lake is Blue Mountain with its blue dome rising to a height of 4,000 feet. Its forest clad side slopes directly to the water's edge inviting the mountain climbers to try their mettle. We left the steamer here and were carried by automobile about a mile up one of the hills to the Blue Mountain House where we had a glorious view of the lake. It seemed a pity to waste time on dinner, but we did and found it most delectable. Although the thermometer stood in the nineties, four of the men, our English friend among them, climbed Blue Mountain. The less strenuous rested and enjoyed the view and the beauties of a wonderful garden nearby in the woods. The return trip to Eagle Bay made in the cool of afternoon and evening was enjoyed perhaps even more than the morning trip.
We were beguiled on this excursion as on others by frequent comparisons between English and American customs and scenery. This added much to our enjoyment and knowledge because we could look at things from two points of view. One observation which struck us as novel was that the English mountains were better than the American because they were usually treeless. Aside from the economic axiom according to which this is a fault, we considered this position untenable, as we thought the barren, dead, English mountains we had seen would be much more beautiful if clothed with living green. However, when we were told that it was more enjoyable climbing English mountains because there were no underbrush and trees to impede one and shut out the view and the breeze, we agreed it all depended on the point of view and the weather.
The next morning, Wednesday, after a swim in the lake, some climbed Eagle Mountain just back of the hotel. This was an easy climb and from the "shelter" at the top there was a fine view of the lake. This beautiful lake region is still wild and primitive, there are few pretentious camps or hotels and it is not generally known. More should visit this country to enjoy its beauty before it becomes the resort of wealth and fashion. At noon we left this beautiful spot and, with many regrets, parted with Mr. Brown, our efficient guide to this region. We went on by train by way of Carter and Saranac Inn Station to the Lake Placid Club, our headquarters for the next four days. A delay in train connections at Saranac gave us a chance to ride about this famous resort where Stevenson once spent a winter in search of health. One of the interesting sights was an imitation Alaskan camp with log huts and Esquimaux dogs for the use of a moving picture making company, when showing scenes in the wild northwest. The imitation of the northwest was so good that it took considerable mental effort to realize we were still in the Empire State with civilized life all about us.
So many good things had been planned for us at Lake Placid, that we were often at a loss what to choose. We usually tried to do everything. The first evening Mr. Dewey welcomed us and the other librarians, who had gone directly to the Lake Placid Club from the Catskills, with a good supper in a special dining room where we could all eat together. He then outlined the plan of entertainment during our stay, delegating his son, Godfrey, to carry out details and attend to our comfort and well-being. To these three, Mr. Melvil Dewey, Miss Katharine L. Sharp, and Mr. Godfrey Dewey, the party is most grateful for the welcome they received and the good time they enjoyed. The Lake Placid holiday will be long remembered with delight by those fortunate enough to enjoy it.
The entertainment included automobile tours on several days to the famous places in the Adirondacks, covering a territory that would take several weeks to explore in the ordinary way. When we left Lake Placid we felt we ought to suffer from a case of Adirondack travel indigestion.