THE ROOF TREE—Leolyn Inn, Lily Dale, New York, July 1915
Published sporadically by Fred G. Andrews and Gertrude Nelson Andrews
Editors, Publishers and Proprietors “The Leolyn Inn”
Auntie Pierce is here, settled in her cottage for the summer, and hard at work on her quilts. She has two beautiful silk creations, which she pieced this past winter. The fortunate ones who secure them will be sure of health and happiness under their cover, for Auntie Pierce puts a goodwill thought with each stitch. She has now eighty-five years of stored commonsense vigor. Here are some of the things she said to me: “It isn’t years that makes you old: it’s havin’ back-numbered ideas about things.” “Some folks is more interested in being Methodists than in being Christians.” “A wedding ring and a batch of fruit cakes ain’t all there is to getting’ married.” “I don’t waste any time trying to locate hidden cussedness in my neighbors, I take’em as I find’em, If they ain’t what they ought to be, then they’re the losers.” “If some folks would give their tongues a rest, and keep their hearts busier we wouldn’t need any Billy Sundays.”
We’ve moved our print shop. The Leolyn Press has occupied a warm corner of our sunny kitchen all winter. It now has a cozy and delightful home of its own in the boathouse down by the landing. We can see the shy muskellunge beckoning us now from our door.
THE LEOLYN INN
The old Leolyn Inn is spic and span, and ready to smile a glad motherly “howdy” to you when you come. The many rooms are cool and dreamy, and filled with the sweet odors of June roses. Wood scented breezes softly stir the curtains. Through the windows there drifts the love songs of birds. The big old porch with its many rockers waits in happy expectancy for the visits of its homecoming friends. The lawn beyond is trying to look its greenest and smell its sweetest. Across the road is Mr. Andrews garden—a most wonderful garden, as you will discover. Out in the lake “Broad water-lilies lay tremulos.” And above it all the Old Ghost pine sways its hoary boughs in an indolent reflectiveness. The new bathhouses and bathing beach at the end of the grove are complete. A new rustic and shaded pier is built, with seats where you may sit and read, or sew, or dream. A rustic covered porch has been added to the Wigwam. It all invites you to come and “lose in a summer dream all your cares.” Read more…