Just came across this very short article from page 18 of the May 28, 1930 issue of the Camden Evening Courier. The author is not credited but I bet you one dollar it was the venerable Henry Charlton Beck, judging by the tone and slight snark.
Jersey's Lonely Pine Lands Lure Anglers Seeking Pike
There may be secluded sections of the Jersey pines but fishermen find them when pike season comes.
Last Tuesday they were fisherman everywhere, wandering through the burned, Woodlands, swinging their rods over out-of-the-way streams.
Down at Speedwell was a well liked hole, a favorite spot of former governor Gifford Pinchot, to whom the state is indebted for many of its geological surveys. It was singular that the season opened on the day the former Governor was waging a successful battle for candidacy on his old job.
At Harrisia there was another lone angler, playing the cedar water while the Madam read a novel in the sun lit car. Afterword he came through the deserted village with a string of fine catches.
Down as far as Martha, the most adventurous of the fishers were cavorting. The sport was unusual judging from the yells of pleasure which didn't sound much like seasoned fisherman. Then the nomads in this case vanished mysteriously as one of the new party looked like a warden.
Through the pinelands, at Bear Hole near Lebanon, down back of Mary Ann Forge, up at Hanover and in the streams near other deserted hamlets are choice spots for fish, known only to those who do not turn back because of an overgrown and swampy road.
Jersey's Lonely Pine Lands Lure Anglers Seeking Pike
There may be secluded sections of the Jersey pines but fishermen find them when pike season comes.
Last Tuesday they were fisherman everywhere, wandering through the burned, Woodlands, swinging their rods over out-of-the-way streams.
Down at Speedwell was a well liked hole, a favorite spot of former governor Gifford Pinchot, to whom the state is indebted for many of its geological surveys. It was singular that the season opened on the day the former Governor was waging a successful battle for candidacy on his old job.
At Harrisia there was another lone angler, playing the cedar water while the Madam read a novel in the sun lit car. Afterword he came through the deserted village with a string of fine catches.
Down as far as Martha, the most adventurous of the fishers were cavorting. The sport was unusual judging from the yells of pleasure which didn't sound much like seasoned fisherman. Then the nomads in this case vanished mysteriously as one of the new party looked like a warden.
Through the pinelands, at Bear Hole near Lebanon, down back of Mary Ann Forge, up at Hanover and in the streams near other deserted hamlets are choice spots for fish, known only to those who do not turn back because of an overgrown and swampy road.
