shaded streets dot the State like flower beds.

An old State, as we measure things out of New England, settled by New
Englanders during the first great emigration after the War of 1812.
Its capital, Lake City, lays claim to almost a century of existence.
Lying among the hills in the northern part of the State, it contains
both the state capitol and the state university. Of its thirty
thousand inhabitants, five thousand are students and another five
thousand are state legislators and state employees.

The town is one of quiet loveliness. It lies in the curving shore of
one of the most beautiful of the little inland lakes. The university
campus lies at the northern end of the curve. The dome of the capitol
rises from the trees at the southern end. Between, deep lawns stretch
to the water's edge with fine old houses capping the gentle slope of
the shore. Inland lies the business section of the town, with the less
pretentious of the dwellings. The whole city is dotted with great elms
and maples, planted three quarters of a century ago.

A quiet town, Lake City, with an atmosphere that might well belong to
New England,--beauty, culture, leisure, are its hallmarks.

Fifteen years ago half a mile inland from the lake was an empty block
that once had been a farm pasture. Three fine old oaks stood with tops
together in the center of the block. The grass was still firm and
green and thick in the ancient pasture except for narrow trails worn by
children's feet. To the initiated each trail told its own story.
There was a hollow square that formed the baseball diamond. There was
a straight, short cut that led to the little cress-grown spring. There
were the parallel lines for "Come-Come Pull Away," and there were