XXVI 



RECREATION. 



THE DEATH O' FLINT. 



Said the fellow with the badges * * * "Dear 

 heart, but he died bad, did Flint." — Treasure 

 Island. 



Of the seven that day as sailed away 

 To bury the pirate's hoard, 



Wi' a godless grin on his blue-black chin, 

 But Flint returned aboard. 

 His cock-eye twitched and luffed askew 

 As he croaked by the cabin door ; 

 'Twill go under the sod with me, b'God, 

 Then I'll beat up Hell for more!" 



Oh, I tell ye, mates, the devil himself 



Wouldn't sail wi' Cap n Flint, 

 Unless he was hitched by a double clove 



Or dragged by the old man's squint. 

 Ay, six were they and six are we, 



And what are they now but bones, 

 For he smashed their skulls wi' his iron 

 fist 



And scattered their brains on the stones ! 



Ah, well I remember 'ow 'ard 'e died 



That night on Savannah coast. 

 He shot three men and took Billy Bones 



For' an honest trader's ghost ! 

 We darsn't go near, but we heard him sing 



And the bottles go smash and crash, 

 As he fought wi' the devils as clung to his 

 throat 



And cursed 'em for lubber trash ! 



He fought and he fumed and he cursed and 

 he swore 

 As he raved o'er his buried pile, 

 Yellin' "Fifteen men on the dead 'un's 

 chest," 

 And a-soakin' up rum the while, 

 And he "yo-ho-ho'd" and he stabbe'd the 

 air 

 And he strangled the tangled bed ! 

 Then he cracked the wall wi' a blow o' his 

 fist 

 And laughed — his laugh! — and was dead! 



He was blue wi' the rum that had fouled 

 his hawse. 

 (Oh, an ugly devil was Flint!) 

 We could hardly believe as he'd come to 

 Port, 

 For his eye had the same old squint. 

 When we laid him out snug in the hole we 

 dug 

 We was feared 'e would open 'is jaw 

 An' sit up an' yell: "Flint dead? To Hell! 

 Fetch aft the rum, M'Graw !" 



But come. Are ye scared? He's a grin- 

 nin' stiff, 



Deep buried Savannah way. 

 Will ye show yer starn to a boozy ghost 



When Flint don't walk by day? 

 I saw him dead wi' these 'ere head-lights. 



I shoveled in some o' the sod. 

 It was these 'ere hands as closed 'is eyes — 



Though they wouldn't stay shut, b'God ! 



But we weighted 'em down wi' gold 

 doubloons, 

 (He had always an eye for gold,) 



And we tied >up 'is jaw wi' an old red 

 sash 

 When sartain sure he was cold — 

 While the green parrot squawked around 

 his face 

 And pecked at his cold blue lips, 

 Shriekin' "Pieces of eight!" But Flint 

 was gone 

 To beat up phantom ships. 

 — Stephen Chalmers, in New York Times. 



ANOTHER THREAT FROM THE 

 WINCHESTER PEOPLE 



Now that our Legislature has passed our 

 game bill I am at liberty to draw your at- 

 tention to one feature of the fight for 

 game preservation in this State that may 

 interest you. 



Some months ago the sportsmen of the 

 State prepared a' bill which contained . n 

 provision that no gun should be used from 

 which more than 2 shots could be fired 

 without reloading. A draft of the bill was 

 published in the local newspapers. 



Soon after this a young man called on 

 me and introduced himself as the travel- 

 ing representative of the Winchester Arms 

 Co. in this section. He said he had read 

 our proposed bill and called to voice a 

 protest against the section relating to re- 

 peating and automatic shot guns. 



He asked whether I knew you personal- 

 ly and I said no. 



He then said you had begun the crusade 

 against his company and their new gun 

 because they had withdrawn their adver- 

 tisement from Recreation, and threatened 

 to oppose our bill actively unless we cut 

 out the objectionable section. He said it 

 would be a fight to a finish and that his 

 company would defeat the bill. 



As we already had a lot of opposition 

 from the market hunters we concluded 

 not to press that feature at the session of 

 the Legislature, and eliminated it from 

 our bill. 



It may also interest you to know that 

 nearly 1,000 automatic shot guns have been 

 recently sold in this city to market hunt;:., 

 and game hogs, and they are loud in praise 

 if it. 



A prominent banker, a gentleman and a 

 true sportsman, borrowed one of these 

 guns from a dealer and tried it one day in 

 the field. He told me he was so ashamed 

 of the slaughtering machine that he tried 

 to avoid meeting any of his friends on his 

 way back to town. He returned the gun 

 at once and says no man but a butcher 

 would have such a weapon in his posses- 

 sion. 

 Frank M. Miller, President of the Audubon 



Society of Louisiana, New Orleans. 



"Do you think that music is of any prac- 

 tical benefit in life?" 



"Well," answered Miss Cayenne, "juclg- 

 ing from the photographs of eminent violin- 

 ists, it must keep the hair from falling 

 out." — Washington Star. 



