Struggles of the Gaim Warden 



(Reprinted from Field and Stream) 



THE gaim warden is a man of one (1) idee the saim 

 being to draw his sallery & not exsite the annymuls. 

 He is handed mity few bokays & menny lemmuns. 

 There air men hoom he may pull at awl owers of the day 

 & nite, & uthers hoo air not pullable. 



His daily prayer is "Let my eyes be opun that I may knoe 

 the pollittykal beleef & the bizness & fammily connexshuns 

 under evry old hat that -bobs upp in the brush. Furthermoar, 

 may I be a thorn in the path of the non-rezzident, hoo is mi 

 espeshul meet. May he hunt & fish erly & offen, & prosper- 

 rity be hisn, that his moalskin may be full of long grene." 



Hear is a littel pome that was handed to Yore Unkel the 

 uther day by a gaim warden up in the Addyrondax. He calls 

 it 



THE WURST EVER. 



He had caut a hatful of littel trowt 



Not one (1) of them leegal size 

 & I stood & wacht him yank them owt 



With me two (2) offishul eyes; 

 But I knew that his dad owned a stoar in town 



& soald eggs to the judge's wife, 

 So I sez "You've got a fine mess, Mister Brown." 

 Bet yer life! 



I heered the dog on the trale of a deer, 



& hedded him off with my gun; 

 But I see it was just the road overseer 



Out having a little fun. 

 So I sez, "He's heading for Porter's Laik, 



& you'll beat him there if you try." 

 A wize gaim warden maiks no bad braik. 

 That's no lie! 



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