278 



RECREATION. 



a mighty load of fish, weighing between 250 and 

 300 pounds. Others show the fish strung in lines.. 



A Worcester man who sends me the 

 clipping says : 



I enclose a slip which I consider should 

 be put with Hanson's portrait in the part 

 of Recreation devoted to fish hogs. Mr. 

 Hansen says that after catching between 

 250 and 300 pounds of pickerel he got 

 tired. A true sportsman would have been 

 tired at 50 pounds, and would have thrown 

 back all small fish. I think I understand 

 your request for Mr. Hanson's picture 

 and hope you will lay it on thick. If he is 

 a conscientious man it will do him good. 



Here is more Worcestershire sauce, from 

 another business man of that town, who 

 saw the puff in the local paper : 



Of course the whole thing is nuts to 

 me and to every other supporter of Rec- 

 reation's crusade against the army of 

 thick skinned, thick headed rooters. I 

 know Hanson well ; and if "coming events 

 cast their shadows before," he bids fair 



to see himself as others see him and to 

 learn a lesson which will do him good. 

 I trust he may see, through the rents of 

 his shattered pride, a glimpse of the new 

 gospel of not trying to catch and kill all 

 one possibly can for the sake of a record, 

 in an age already marred by too many 

 like him. Give him the straight tongue on 

 moderation in sport and what it means to 

 coming generations. 



I got Hanson's photograph by putting up 

 50 cents and would have been willing to 

 pay 10 times that price if I could not have 

 got it for less. It is not necessary for me 

 to add to what 2 of Mr. Hanson's neigh- 

 bors have said of him as quoted above. I 

 wish I could shear him of all his bristles 

 and make a decent man of him, but that 

 is probably impossible. I trust, however, 

 that all young men and boys who look on 

 this picture will be inspired with a whole- 

 some contempt for a man who has thus 

 disgraced himself, and that none of them 

 will ever commit such an outrage against 

 the laws of decency. — Editor. 



WHY NOT? 



W. H. NELSON. 



Let the rod take the place of the pen, 



Stop hustling and crowding awhile; 

 Get away from the strivings of men, 



Replace your stock frown with a smile ; 

 For a fair place is waiting for you, 



A trout stream swift follows the aisle; 

 Through the vaulted cathedral of woods, 



With transepts of trout pools each mile. 



Let the rod take the place of the pen, 



Take heed of the beckoning stream; 

 Watch the silvery flash of the fish, 



See the jump, the splash, and the gleam. 

 Skim the fly o'er the treasure-filled depths, 



Drift close to the shadow-cooled brink — ■ 

 There's a strike, and a tug, and a flight ! 



It's worth coming to win — don't you 

 think? 



There the din of the world's busy marts 



Becomes as the breath of the noon ; 

 And the sacred stream sings as it goes 



An anthem in Freedom's glad tune. 

 And there sits on the moss-cushioned bank, 



In the shade where the green willows 

 bend, 

 His old face with contentment alight 



Isaac Walton, the fisherman's friend. 



NAME OF PHOTOGRAPHER UNKNOWN. 



A REMARKABLE HEAD. 



"What is it that makes men great, papa?" 

 "Persistent advertising, my son." — 

 Cleveland Plain Dealer. 



