CHARACTERISTICS OF THE SPORTSMAN. 



RUFE BARMBY. 



The genuine sportsman, as markedly as 

 a member of any other clan or class what- 

 ever, has his characteristics and peculiari- 

 ties, by which he may be easily recognized. 

 First of all, he is utterly devoid of false 

 pride. He is not ashamed to be seen in 

 his old clothes. A tawny, plain canvas 

 dress is his uniform. The soldier in no 

 small degree derives dignity and courage 

 from the mlitary garb of his nation. The 

 sportsman, on the contrary, must be pos- 

 sessed of stability of character from his 

 necessity of facing the world in humble 

 attire. 



"No doubt," says Thoreau, "my dusty 

 and tawny cowhides surprise the street 

 walkers who wear patent leather shoes, 

 but they do not consider how absurd such 

 shoes would be, in my vocation, to thread 

 the woods and swamps in. C was say- 

 ing properly enough the other day, as we 

 were making our way through a dense 

 patch of shrub oak, T suppose those vil- 

 lagers think we wear these old, worn hats, 

 with holes all along the corners, for od- 

 dity; but Coombs, the musquash hunter 

 and partridge and rabbit snarer, knows bet- 

 ter. He understands us. He knows a new 

 and square cornered hat would be spoiled 

 in one excursion through the scrub oaks.' 



"When a citizen comes to take a walk 

 with me I commonly find he is lame and 

 disabled by his shoeing. He is sure to 

 wet his feet, tear his coat, jam his hat, and 

 the superior qualities of my boots, coat 

 and hat appear. I once went into the 

 woods with a party, for a fortnight. I wore 

 my old and common clothes, which were of 

 Vermont gray. They wore, no doubt, the 

 best they had for such an occasion, of a 

 fashionable color and quality. I thought 

 they were a little ashamed of me, while 

 we were in the towns. They all wore their 

 clothes badly but myself, and I, who, it 

 chanced, was the only man provided with 

 needles and thread, enabled them to mend 

 them. When we came out of the woods 

 I was the best dressed of the party." 



No doubt his friends were inclined to 

 be ashamed of him at the start, and yet it 

 is safe to assume their disdain gave place 

 to a wholesome respect before the return, 

 in spite of his rude dress. 



The sportsman is sure to be a thought- 

 ful, observant man. Let the civilian have a 

 care how he presumes to hold in light 

 esteem the long and austere schooling 

 which the man of the woods has under- 

 gone. Profitably may he bear in mind 

 what Emerson, the poet, sage and seer 



says of him, after having made his acquain- 

 tance in the Adirondack wilderness: 



"Look to yourselves, ye polished gentlemen ! 

 No city airs or art pass current here. 

 Your rank is all reversed: let men of cloth 

 Bow to the stalwart churls in overalls: 

 'J hey are the doctors of the wilderness, 

 And we the low prized laymen. 

 In sooth, red flannel is a saucy test 

 Which few can put on with impunity." 



A sound and healthful physique is usual- 

 ly the priceless possession by which the 

 devotee of sports afield may also be recog- 

 nized. The sallow cheek and lustreless 

 eye are ordinarily not the accompaniments 

 of an active and vigorous life in the open 

 air. Disorder and disease find a far more 

 attractive mark in the devotee of indolence, 

 luxury and indulgence than in the abstemi- 

 ous and self disciplined sportsman, who 

 of old is inured to hardship and exposure. 



The medical profession, at large, is com- 

 ing more and more to recognize the value 

 and importance of outdoor life, and is 

 already asserting that a closer association 

 with nature is the crying need of the vast 

 majority of the nervous and delicate inhab- 

 itants of our great cities. 



"Better to hunt the fields unbought 

 Than fee the doctor for the nauseous draught. 

 The wise for cure on exercise depend. 

 God never made his work for man to mend. " 



— Dryden. 



How can one fail to recognize and ac- 

 knowledge the superior physical vigor of 

 the man who will unflinchingly face the 

 heats of summer and the chilling blasts of 

 winter; who will penetrate the pathless 

 thicket and forbidding morass, and derive 

 from it all a real pleasure? 



Association with the sturdy oak and the 

 hardv pine can not but leave its impress 

 on the character. Evelyn says, "Innum- 

 erable are the testimonies I might produce 

 concerning the inspiring and sacred in- 

 fluence of groves, from the ancient poets 

 and historians. Here the noblest raptures 

 have been conceived; and in the walks and 

 shades of trees poets have composed verses 

 which have animated man to glorious ami 

 heroic actions. PTere orators have made 

 their panegyrics, historians their grave re- 

 lations; and here profound philosophers 

 have loved to pass their lives in repose and 

 contemplation." From the depth and sc 

 riousness of their life, breadth of opinion 

 and genuine sympathy with all that is wor- 

 thy and exalted, the children of nature, 

 nurtured after her own way and training, 

 are to be known. 



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