Led on from one thing to another, I found Darby finally plying me with questions of kindly interest about my peaceful march from Ocean to Ocean, and anxiously asking about my horse, which I had previously left in his care. He offered to do all he could for the animal and with this comforting assurance took his leave. One hundred and Eleventh Day. _Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _August Thirtieth_. Early in the afternoon Darby called with fishing tackle and proposed that we go out to Lake of the Woods and try our luck with hook and line. The expedition was not successful as far as fish was concerned, but we had a delightful boat ride and plenty of talk. The lake, a pretty little dot lying, as its name implies, in the heart of the woods, is an ideal spot for rest and enjoyment, and its miniature dimensions bear no resemblance to its famed namesake of Minnesota. As we had such poor success with our tackle I took no note of the kind of fish that make their home within its sleepy borders, and my companion gave me very little information. The truth is, we were more interested in our concerns and the serious affairs outside the sport which so fascinated Izak Walton. One hundred and Twelfth Day. _Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _August Thirty-first_. Albert W. Rogers, to whom I had been previously introduced, called late in the afternoon, and invited me to drive with him, determined, he told me, that I should see something of Decatur's surroundings. The time was favorable for agreeable impressions. It had been a typical summer day, with blue sky, a slight breeze and the mercury at 70°; in short, just such weather as I had encountered in this section of Michigan throughout the month of August, and as evening approached, I was prepared to enjoy to the utmost the pleasure which my new acquaintance had provided. [Illustration: SPINNING YARNS BY A TAVERN FIRE.] On the outskirts of the town one gets a view of gently rolling country under a splendid state of cultivation, the yellow of the grain fields predominating, and dotted here and there with farmhouses. Dark outlines against the horizon suggested the forests of oak, ash, maple, birch and elm, which stretch over such large tracts of Van Buren County, and which have made a little paradise for lumbermen. Wheat, maize and hay appeared to be nourishing; but I believe that agricultural products do their best in the rich bottom-lands bordering the rivers. I have dwelt so enthusiastically upon this fertile country that to say more would seem extravagant, so I will bring my note, the chronicle of a most delightful day, to a close. One Hundred and Thirteenth Day.