TOO MUCH FOR HIM. 



403 



Join the L. A. S. and get all your friends 

 and neighbors to join it. We hope to have 

 a game warden in each county in the State, 

 before the end of the year. These wardens 

 will be members of the League, paid by the 

 League, and their work will be scrutinized 

 by every active member of that order. 

 These local wardens are to act in conjunc- 

 tion with the local state officers and see that 

 the latter do their duty. Editor. 



Mr. R. B. Lawrence, Secretary of the 

 New York Association for the protection 

 of game, is entitled to great credit for the 

 indefatigable manner in which, for 3 years 

 past, he has fought for the repeal of Sec- 

 tion 249. He was with the officers of the 

 L. A. S. before the assembly committee 

 when it gave the hearing on the bill to 

 repeal this law, and made an eloquent plea. 

 The league officers are greatly indebted to 

 Mr. Lawrence for his cordial co-operation 

 in this work. 



I need not tell anyone who knows me 

 that I am thoroughly in sympathy with, 

 and will support, any movement which has 

 for its object the protection and increase 

 of game. I therefore heartily approve the 

 plan of the L. A. S. and we shall welcome 

 its co-operation in this State. 



J. O'H. Denny, Prest. Penn. State 



Sportsmen's Assn. 



Every member of the L. A. S. should 

 avail himself of everv onoortunity to stir 

 up his friends in the interest of the League, 

 and induce them to join. If you want 

 blank applications, write the Secretary and 

 they will be sent you at once. 



The badges are now ready for delivery. 

 Send in your order, accompanied by the 

 cash. Prices are as follows: bronze 25 

 cents, silver 75 cents and gold $2.50. 



All who join the L. A. 5. before June 

 1st will be enrolled as charter members. 

 Send in your dollar at once. 



TOO MUCH FOR HIM. 



The editor sat in his well-worn chair, his 

 head bowed low on his breast, 



The tangled whiskers which fringed his 

 face clung close to his tattered vest. 



He sat reflecting upon his lot, and the sighs 

 which he let escape 



Seemed windy evidence that affairs with 

 him were in desperate shape. 



Delinquent subscribers came not in to glad- 

 den his heart with coin, 



'Twas many a day since he stowed away a 

 silver piece in his groin, 



And his wife had told him that very morn, 

 with a sort of a hungry frown, 



His dinner that day would be turnips 

 straight, with water to wash them 

 down. 



He'd chronicled every birth and death, with 



a comment on each event, 

 Had " Personaled " every man in camp, if 



he only a-fishing went; 

 At every wedding, no matter if the bride 



was a homely fright, 

 He'd laud her comeliness to the skies; just 



flatter her out of sight. 

 He often said that the minister was a Tal- 



mage of eloquence, 

 The brain of the young attorney-at-law a 



bonanza of legal sense — 

 In short, he'd puffed every living soul, from 



the Mayor to Bummer Jim, 

 Yet never a "thank you" had come his 



way. not a dollar been thrown to him. 



While thus reflecting he heard a step, and a 

 heart- warming " Howdv-do? 



I reckon you're the editor man; I've bin a 

 lookin' fur you! 



I'm ol' Sam Bass of the Two-X ranch, bin 

 takin' yer paper a year, 



An' I want you to keep it a slidin' along; 

 I've got the spondulix here. 



I tell you, pardner, the ol' Gazette is a hum- 

 mer from top to toe! 



My woman says she'll stop keepin' house 

 if it stops a comin', by Jo! 



An' that reminds me, I brought a crock o' 

 , butter, of her own make. 



An' throwed you in a hindquarter o' beef, 

 jes' sorter fur friendship's sake. 



"An' Tom — I guess you remember Tom! 



Got married last week, you know — 

 He told me to tell you that piece you writ 



about the affair wa'n't slow; 

 You said his gal was a ' rural sprite,' with a 



angel brand on her smile, 

 An' here's ten dollars that Tom sent in to 



show that he likes yer style, 

 An' here " — But the rancher heard a gasp, 



the editor toppled o'er 

 And fell with a dull and sickening thud on 



his den's uncarneted floor! 

 The visitor knelt o'er the prostrate form 



and lifted the helpless head: 

 But the ten-dollar shock had done its work! 



The editor man was dead! 



