LETTER 1

Summit, New Jersey, Thursday, August 1883.

Dear Allie:

I was at Asbury Park nearly two weeks, and you don't know how much I wanted you there. I would have had a splendid time had you been with me, much better even than I did have. At first I went to the Spray View House and had a room overlooking both the ocean and Wesley Lake. Wesley Lake is a beautiful little sheet of water fed by springs, it is separated from the ocean by a strip of land about 75 feet wide. It seems strange that a freshwater lake should be so near the ocean, and about 15 feet higher. Every pleasant evening the lake is covered with boats lighted by long strings of fancy japanese lanterns. It reminds one of the pictures of gondolas in venice- There are over three hundred of these boats on the lake and they make it very attractive with their pretty awnings and bright red cushions.

If a person comes within 100 feet of the lake he is at once greeted by loud shouts of “Here you are gent; around the lake for a quarter” “this is the boat you want sir, the one with the mask on”. They are a thousand times worse than the hackmen at the depot. The second day I was there I went out on the ocean to fish for Bluefish. Men dressed in tennis shirts and short knee pants, showing their arms and legs almost black from exposure to the sun, took us out in a surf boat- it was beginning to be a little stormy, and waves seemingly as high as houses rolled towards us, but instead of breaking over us would let us break over them- it seemed as through we went down a hill about as high as Fitzhugh street Hill and then met another hill much steeper, and when we had ascended to the top of that, whoop, we would be clear out of the water, and come down with a jar and a splash ready for the next.

At last we reached the Yacht, a little two masted Vessel at a distance it seemed but a toy, but as we drew nearer it grew large as a church- a small church. There it stormed and rained, the waves ran high and I was drenched. The other passengers were sea sick. We stayed out about 3 hours, and then came back towards Ocean Grove. The captain said he guessed it was too rough to land, and he would sail up to Sandy Hook, round the hook and land us in the bay in time to catch a train to Asbury Park- we started for the Hook, but the wind abated a little and he said he would land us, but it would be a WET landing. I should say SO! The waves which seemed before to be hills, now came at us like a solid wall of water, striking the stern of the surf boat, the water would break all over us- WET? I guess so. It was raining like mad too. A crowd was waiting to see us land and a young lady brought an umbrella down to escort me up to the pavilion, though it was hardly necessary, as I could not get any wetter.

I have been out a number of times since, but of course the first time is the most memorable. One day I went out with some fishermen in a surf boat to take up a net. On our way out they were very gloomy for a week had passed without catching anything, and they seemed tired of setting their net at sunrise and taking it up at sunset every day with no luck. When we reached the buoy which held up one end of the net, one of the men looked over and then began to yell cheerfully and whistle- he seemed almost beside himself with excitement. “There are a thousand there!” he said, then they commenced to haul the net. They caught about five hundred pounds of bluefish, and a SHARK, about 12 feet long. The shark got away after getting stuck with a butcher knife a dozen times or so, after demolishing the net. If they had caught him they would have put a tent on the beach and charged 10 cents admission to see him. The water is so clear one can look way down and see funny kinds of fish- Pilot fish, like this: (Here Harry drew a small crude picture of a fish with black and white stripes on its whole body), and a school of dolphins is frequently seen. There are a number of wrecks along the coast which are visited by hosts of people-

Shark River is a palace where many go to catch crabs. You tie a fish's head to a string, drop it in the water, and almost instantly a crab takes a hold of it with his thumb and forefinger- then you put a net under him and pull the fish's head out of the water. As soon as mr. crab finds himself dangling in the air he lets go, then finds himself in a net, and so on.

Goodbye, Love to all- Harry.