THE OREGON SPORTSMAN H 



The dinner was not a brilliant success, but our donation of a couple 

 of "city" chops saved the day. The landladies in explanation of the 

 scanty meal said they were i ' Hooverizing, ' ' — rather a neat way to 

 cover their delinquencies. 



After dinner the cruisers and the fishermen, and the entire mem- 

 bership of the two families, sat around the stove talking ' ' shop, ' ' and 

 I am in duty bound to say that the fisherman met his equal in the 

 cruiser. 



Lying on my soft bed in that cold little upstairs room 'neath the 

 roof, listening to the patter of the rain and watching the cobwebs on 

 the rafters, and wondering whether any would fall during the night, 1 

 soon fell asleep to the popular strain of "The End of a Perfect Day." 



THE OUTEK TO HIS PAL "OVEK THEKE" 



By W. Livingston Larned, in Outer's Book 



Jim, you are off with your rifle, 



Hunting a new sort of game! 

 Stalkin' for men is th' trifle; 



•Gunning for Glory and Fame. 

 Luck to you, Jim, on your mission: 



True to your trust an' the flag. 

 Bring back th' goods, we are wishin'; 



Fill up with medals your bag. 

 (But, as I sit here this evening, 



Smoking my pipe in th' shack, 

 Gee' but your old pal is lonely! 

 Gee, but I'm wantin' you only! 



Wish to gol darn you was back!) 



Jim, you are overseas, yonder, 



Camped in a new sort of way. 

 Mebbe, while at it, you ponder — 



Think of ME, Jim, and To-day. 

 This time of year we went scouting, 



Up in the hills and the sky. 

 Off on a primitive outing. 



Sweetened with bacon we'd fry. 

 (Here I am — up in the mountains; 



Here I am, Jim, in the shack. 

 Campfire burns red, and I'm thinking, 

 Ah! those Camp toasts we were drinking! 



Wish to gol darn you was back.) 



Jim, the old trails are as gleaming, 



Game just as thick as before. 

 Fish in th' deep streams are teeming, 



Deer tracks are thick on th' shore! 

 Dogs just as eager at morning, 



Woods just as sweet as they were. 

 Only ME, Jimmy, forlorn-ing, 



Heart-sick and throat like a burr. 

 (Always, at night-time, I see you, 



Laughing there, shinin' your gun. 

 Gee! But th' shack is some lonely, 

 Gee, but I'm wantin' you only; 



HURRY BACK . . . when it's all done-) 



