They Must Obtain a License and With That They Are Ready for Summer's Work

HARWOOD -- The guide forms a necessary and integral part of a fishing resort, and is not peculiar to Harwood alone. There are numbers of them around the lake. For three dollars a day they provide a roomy skiff and pull you over sections of the lake and river where they know fish have been caught. All you have to do is sit up in the bow and drag a troll or two and provide the "eats," with something to drink if you have a supply and the guide is not a teetotaller.

If the fish fail to bite, you can not blame the guide. If he lands you home with nothing but the customary luck of the fisherman, he can provide a ready alibi.

The qualifications of a guide appear to be vague and indefinite. He must secure a license, and that seems to let him out. He usually has a big skiff and it is usually painted green. That is one of the rules of the fraternity. There is no know apprenticeship. The license covers the bill. Work begins about the middle of June, with a slim market until after July 1. The busy season sets in and by Labour Day the guide has a rowing motion as regular as a policeman's gait, and about the same speed. You are out for fish, and too much speed drags your bait away before a lunge could bet his eyes on it. If it is speed you want, hire a hydroplane.

To avoid disappointment cast off with your guide whenever he is ready and look for nothing but the days easy motion over the ripples. You know you will sleep soundly when you seek the pillow that night. Then if you do get three or four ten-pounders, well, it is like stumbling over a treasure.

On the whole the guides at Rice Lake have given the best of satisfaction, and have won many friends. They give their best service, realizing that the popularity of Rice Lake as a fishing grounds depends largely on their efforts.



Rice Lake Guides Have An Understanding That Is Really A Union

Harwood -- The Guild of Guides is one of the soundest little unions that ever declared a boycott. The every idea is as unexpected at Rice Lake as is the strength of the tacit understanding that exists among the men who pilot the visiting fishermen to the supposed haunts of the largest fish.

This union works, too. If you engage a guide to row you about the lake for a day, and for some reason or other you become dissatisfied with him, you can not dismiss him, and engage another guide the next day. If you discharge the first you have no come back unless you put your back to the oars and trust to blind luck and your own rowing.

Dismiss the first and you will find yourself unable to secure another, and you will have to take the first man on again, if he will then accommodate you. If he is huffed, and business good, you are deprived of the native guidance. It will avail you nothing to try to import a man from another resort. You are black-balled, even though you are convinced that you were not getting a square deal. And there is no arbitration board to consider your complaint. However, some of the visitors have been able to get another man but he usually takes a chance of bringing down the whole Guild about his head.

It must be said however, that there are few complaints against the guides, and visitors have in most cases received good treatment. Any dissatisfaction is nothing more than is found at any good fishing grounds, and there is generally a way of getting a good man to pilot you to the choice fishing beds.



The Rice Lake Village Once Looked Hopefully into the Future. Its Industries and Railways Departed and With Them Went Every Promise Of Development.

HARWOOD -- There is much that is interesting about this straggling hamlet with its scattered reminders of better days. Harwood had a past, and at one time its handful of inhabitants spoke in the hopeful future tense. There was even a real estate boom, and promise of development inflated values.

Today the village is predicated in the past tense, and the present generation seldom ponder upon what might have been their heritage. The line from Virgil, "Fuimus Troes; fuit Ilium" fits the place and its people. Goldsmith must have had another Harwood before him when he wrote "The Deserted Village." If you are familiar with this work of the nomadic old poet you will more deeply appreciate the atmosphere of this scramble of houses on the Northumberland shore of Rice Lake.

Harwood in its palmy days depended upon the Cobourg railway and the lumber industry. When a combination of circumstances kicked these props, the lid fell without even the saving virtue of hope. Some of the more pretentious buildings were burned, others were torn down, and others again fell into desuetude and disrepair.

Looking out from the east veranda of the Lakeview House there is a deep bay that once floated millions of logs. The only reminder of this flourishing industry today is the old sawdust ground that was piled in a deep layer, and has outlived the ravages of the passing years. Campbell and Houston were the owners of this mill and it is said that its saws cut over 100,000 feet of lumber a day in the busy season. All that remains of the structure is the suggestion of the stone work that formed the foundation of the engine room, above which the smoke stack towered 118 feet.

On the rise of land behind the mill there was a double row of boarding houses built for the accommodation of the employees. If you look over this ground you will find a trace of the excavations on which these houses stood.

West of the Lakeview House, a short distance, in the direction of Gore's Landing, there is another scrawl of masonry, all that is left of the other saw mill. It was built by Ludgate and MacDougall, names long associated with the lumber industry of this county.

Big drives of logs were floated down the Otonabee from the country north of Peterborough, and the lumber was carried by rail from Harwood to Cobourg.


The village in the days of its glory boasted a fleet of vessels that bespoke of its prosperity. There were the Otonabee and the Forest City, each said to be as large as boats now furrowing the Trent system. When their usefulness was gone they were left to the elements, thrown aside like worn out cart horses. They were anchored in the bay east of the present landing at Harwood, and if you are wondering around the row of boat houses you will notice the blackened ends of a vessel's ribs sticking out of the water, outlining the remnant of the hold of the Otonabee. The Forrest City's planks were torn apart and disappeared in ashes of somebody's old style stove.

Another boat was the "Isaac Butts." It was built about the time of the "Golden Eye." Both these craft are remembered by the older residents of Peterborough who enjoyed many an excursion on them to Idyl Wild or the other lake points. The boat route in those days extended from Peterborough to Healey's Falls. For a long time lumber cut in Peterborough was conveyed to Harwood on scows and there loaded on the train for Cobourg.

Then there was the "Fairy," a smaller boat, owned by Frank Polson of Cobourg, and the "Maggie Summerville," that belonged to James White of Harwood.


Apart from a general freight and passenger traffic on the lake and river, there was a large quantity of iron ore carried by boat from Hastings to Harwood where it was loaded on flat cars for Cobourg. The ore was obtained from the Marmora mines, and piled on scows for the lake journey. During a number of years this was a rather busy branch of the shipping industry.


The Cobourg railway, however, gave the town, as it was then considered, a real flavour of that activity that abounds in a busy place. It wound its way along the foot of the hills from Cobourg to Harwood, and crossed Rice Lake on the road bed that was built up in the water. Reaching the northern shore of the lake was the big problem that confronted the engineers and their solution is regarded now as so much wasted labour. Out in the centre of the lake a floating bridge was built to allow the steamers a channel. The work was begun in 1848, and it is said to have been completed in four years. But afterwards the movement of the ice in the winter and spring unsettled the foundations of the movable link in this line across the lake and a great deal of difficulty was presented.


The visitor to Harwood will scarcely believe that there was once a station and freight sheds along the present dock. These buildings were constructed just at the foot of the rising on which the Lakeview House now stands. While the lumber industry was at its height and Harwood was beginning to consider itself a place of importance business was good, but trees disappeared like the Indians before the advance of so-called civilization.

The flower of Harwood's hopes had a worm in its bud, and its expected bloom failed to materialize.

The station was sold to the Orange Lodge of Roseneath, and it is said, still does duty as a meeting hall. The other buildings were torn down and removed.


A ramble over the skeleton of the G.T.R. yards conveys the impression that they were of considerable extent in their heyday. A siding ran into the yards of each of the lumber mills, and there were hundreds of feet of trackage in the piling yards.


They say that a man by the name of Drope owned nearly all the land around the village at one time. He also had the first hotel and store. The hotel was on the ground floor and the store was on the second story. A large general store was built later beside the hotel by William Harstone who enjoyed a flourishing business for a time. But when the beginning of the end was in sight the hotel caught fire and destroyed the store with it. You will not look far to find the remains of these structures.

And as it goes, the pathetic story of the rise and fall of Harwood.

It is forty-four years since the trains crossed the lake, and eighteen years since the last train ran to Cobourg from the village. Fourteen years ago witnessed the disappearance of the saw mill industry. The Campbell and Houston mill was sold to a man named Elliott of Peterborough, one of the finest men the village ever had in its midst. "Varney" Waite is still remembered as one of the foremen. It is said that the buildings of the mill went into the barns at what is known as Hall's, conspicuous on the west side of the river above the first bridge. The boiler went to Toronto and the machinery was sold for mill purposes at Lakefield, owned by the Dickson Company.

The Ludgate and MacDougall mill on the west side of Harwood was sold to the Rathburn people, and the machinery was finally moved to their mill at Deseronto.


In the olden days, Mr. Frank McCullough owned a flour and grist mill about a mile south-east of the village. It is doing business yet, but flour is no longer a product. It stands today a chopping mill, and is another reminder of other times and other customs.


It will be readily conceived that Harwood in the days referred to had quite a population.

There were section men and officials of the railway. There were all the men employed in the lumber mills and the employees of the fleet of steamers. There were, besides, the farmers of the surrounding country, cattle buyers and a small transient population. There were the Methodist, Anglican and Roman Catholic churches, built in the order mentioned, and the Presbyterian Church at Bethesda, not far from Harwood.

Of social gatherings there were numerous dances at different homes with occasionally a near function at the hotel.

The old order changed. Harwood's bloom was nipped in the bud by a frost that killed it, and today is only active as a summer resort, although there are occasionally rumours that the old railway may yet be utilized.


Tried To Seek Quiet After a Vigorous Campaign for Mayoralty

But Opponents Sent Man After Him -- Daniel D. Tompkins and the

Interesting Situation That Arose at Rice Lake.

HARWOOD -- It's a far cry from Manitou Beach, the fashionable summer resort on Lake Ontario for Rochester people to this quiet resting place, but Mr. Daniel D. Tompkins linked the distances by his presence here for ten days of ease after the strenuosities of the warmest campaign in the history of the mayoralty of Manitou Beach.

Daniel D., a model of dignity and the soul of benignity, has been so long recognized and acclaimed as the Mayor of Manitou's summer colony, that his position was deemed impregnable.

But, comes the new born Concrete Club, with its young and audatios members, criticizing, cavilling and complaining, that all was not as it should be with the colony's affairs, and finally setting up a candidate for the first position and demanding an election. They were laughed to scorn by the majority of the Manitou crowd, but sufficient followers were gathered in by rag-tag methods to make an election imperative and Daniel D. arrived here fatigued and wearied by the campaign he led in behalf of the established order and the constitution.

He forsook Manitou the morning of the election after casting his own vote, and gave strict orders at the Lakeview House that any mail matters, papers, letters, telegrams and telephone calls for him were to be turned away and held until he arrived home.

And Daniel D. settled down for some real fishing and a real rest. But it was not to be. On his second day at the Gillman resort, there arrived one John Boland, alias Dugan, who gum-shoed from Rochester to Cobourg on the trails of Daniel D. and missed him at the lake town. Finally after making the rounds of the livery stables he picked up the clue that tied him to Harwood.

The rest of the visitors saw nothing untoward in the presence of these two guests for Daniel D. and the Dugan person appeared to be on the best of terms. The hatchet was buried for the time being, but it was afterwards remarked that where Daniel D. went there followed his shadow with all the pertinacity of a Burns man and the faithfulness of Friday.

A strange circumstance was the fact that Dugan was unaware of the results of the election. Apparently he had agreed to forego attempting to learn the result, probably complying with Daniel D.'s wish that he be allowed to cast his thoughts in more restful channels.

But it was remarked after they had departed on Tuesday afternoon that wherever Daniel D. went, Dugan was close behind. If "Pop," as he was familiarly known to the guests here, went fishing, Dugan dug up a guide and followed; if Daniel D. went into dinner, Dugan usually found a place at the same table, and never lost a lap in the succession of the courses.

And all the time Daniel D.'s popularity was waxing and he was recognized as the Chief of the Harwood colony. Indirectly, he was offered the crown. But the Concrete crowd's representative vied with him all the time. If Daniel D. played Handel's Largo, Dugan came through with a brilliant step dance, and when "Pop" sang "Die Wacht am Rhine," Dugan followed with "Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms," or Olcott's "Mother Machree." Not that this Dugan was unpopular. Everybody liked him, and he had enough Irish wit to carry him a long way. But Daniel D. with a profile reminiscent of Gilbert K. Chesterton was regarded as more than an ordinary personage, and if the Cranberry crew of the Concrete Club have ousted him at Manitou, he can have any position he likes with the summer crowd at Harwood.

Thus it was that on the departure of this section of the Rochester contingent, Mr. J. J. Gillman dropped a word or two of what he had learned, and the whole matter was common property.

Daniel D. set out confident that he had carried his election, and ready to make an address of appreciation to his fellow residents at Manitou. Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins have a summer home at Manitou, but they also have a weakness for Rice Lake and enjoyed their holiday at the Gillman House, so much that they decided to return next year. Their friends here are awaiting information regarding the election's result.


Mr. J. J. Gillman Has Plans Ready For The Improvement Of His Resort

HARWOOD -- Mr. J. J. Gillman proposes to make a number of improvements to the Lakeview House for next season in anticipation of a bumper business. He intends to build a pavilion west of the house and towards the lake to be used for concerts and dances. The majority of the guests come to Harwood for a rest and for fishing and there have been no late sessions because of the fact that music in the house may disturb those who want to get out for the first strikes. But now and then everybody desires to enjoy a concert and dance and Mr. Gillman considers that the best plan is to build a place especially for that purpose.

It is understood that he will widen his verandas, and increase the number of rooms. Last winter he erected a commodious kitchen according to his own ideas, and it has been a great asset, but with a guaranteed increase in the number of patrons for 1914, he intends to be well prepared. One of the features of the hotel has been the excellent cuisine, with Mrs. Gillman supervising the work. Not one, but every guest has gone away this summer determined to return next year if possible.

The resort is a rendezvous for Rochester people, with some from New York and a sprinkling from Peterborough. If noses were counted any day during the season it would be found that the majority were from the Flower City. Many arrived this year who had come on the recommendation of friends, and the guests increase with each year.

The country around Harwood is beautiful, the road to Gore's Landing filing along the lake through an avenue rich with shade and shadows

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