626 



CONSERVATION 



"The worst case I ever knew of was 

 that of Tommy West, over in Mono. 

 He was bright, handsome, very popular, 

 did everything he was told ; but after 

 four years' work with him no one could 

 lean on him. He hadn't a had habit, 

 was engaged to a pretty girl, and had 

 a lot of admiring relatives up and down 

 the valley. Everything in the way of 

 criticism ran right off him. He was 

 the most attractive ranger I ever saw, 

 and he made a continual picnic of it. 

 Sometimes he would simply turn off 

 work for a week, and then sag back 

 into the old ruts. I used to lie awake 

 nights trying to think out some way to 

 harden Tommy up get that steel finish 

 on, so to speak, that will keep an edge 

 and cut things." 



"What did you finally do?" I asked 

 the visiting district man. 



"Well, the supervisor, he took a hand. 

 He kept trying Tommy out all along 

 the line, quiet and fine. Then one day 

 he went riding and found Tommy's 

 camp and told Tommy that it was a case 

 of a round peg in a square hole. 



"Tommy spoke up: 'What have I 

 done ?' 



" 'Nothing.' 



" 'Then, what's the matter ?' 



"'It's this way: You are not able 

 to become a living part of this Service 

 for life or for death. You are not mar- 

 ried to it ; the work is to you merely 

 that by which you earn your living, as 

 you have raised cattle, or have farmed, 

 or have driven stage.' 



"Tommy shook his head cheerfully. 

 'Well, I don't see it's anything but giv- 

 ing the Government seventy-five dollars' 

 worth of work a month,, same as if I 

 was plowing on some old jayhawker's 

 ranch. If I had got promoted I'd have 

 done more work. Hand over that pur- 

 ple blank, and I'll sign her up, and no 

 bad feelings, only I'll tell you right now 

 you can't run any business with senti- 

 ment. Give my regards to the Secre- 

 tary of Agriculture when you write.' 



"Then Tommy saddles and starts off, 

 singing a new version of the ranger 

 song the which all of us know by 

 heart now. We heard him howling up 

 the pass at the top of his lungs : 



" 'I was a happy ranger la-ad, 

 The boss, he hints that I am ba-ad. 

 I goes ! I scoots ! I seeks repose 

 The other side of Lyell's snows.' ' 



Ranger's Quarters, Wet Mountain National Forest 



