132 
FOREST AND STREAM 
For Forest and Stream. 
FORSAKEN. 
(AFTER A FRENCH IDEA.) 
WEET Elsie places the flowers away. 
And veils the lamps bright flickering glare 
Prom a weary girl, who longs each day 
Por death or love to end despair. 
“Oh think’st thou, Elsie, he’ll come again?” 
“Sleep, dearest, sleep, and let him he!” 
“Aye, soon death must relieve my pain, 
Then surely in dreams my love I’ll see!” 
A footfall echoes along the stair, 
The sick girl starts—“Oh, if ’twere his!” 
She listens, she holds her breath to hear; 
Hope wanes—for her comes not such bliss! 
“Oh Elsie! never to see him again! 
Never to kiss or caress him more! 
To thirsting lips a flower I’ll strain, 
If it might make my heart less sore!” 
She kissed the flower so fair and bright, 
Her fond moist eyes grew ashen gray. 
Hush! she has breathed her soul so white 
Into the lily’s pure chalice away ? E. C. G. 
For Forest and Stream. 
THE ADIRONDACK TOOTH CARPENTER. 
-—- 
A DRAWING PROM NATURE. 
T HE initial number of your beautiful weekly was 
banded to me last August during a run of intermit¬ 
tent fever. I was at the time in that delicious semi-deliri¬ 
ous frame of mind, partly convalescent, partly doubtful, 
and the cool, breezy Forest and Stream laden with re¬ 
freshing burdens of green woods and sparkling waters, waft¬ 
ed me, in my wanderings to those lakes and mountains I 
know so well. The odor of balsam and sweet smelling 
cedar was everywhere about me; the rush of “Buttermilk 
Falls” was brought back to me, and the dark flowing Rac- 
quette, with quiet-grandeur, uncoiled its sullen length around 
the great “Oxbow.” High above the sighing pines the her¬ 
mit songster piped his notes. Pigmy anglers with “fiery 
glow worm’s eyes,” cast about in dark pools, and with the 
wings of painted butterflies paddled their own canoe-shap¬ 
ed autumn leaves; tiny nimrods with microscopic breech¬ 
loading table forks were disputing the possession of a savory 
golden-edged griddle cake which had slipped through the 
fingers of good old “Mother Johnson.” Ensconced within 
the perfumed petals of a gorgeous white lilly, smoking hot 
and done to a turn, was my two pound trout, the identical 
rascal that smashed my rod to flinders six weeks earlier, 
and led me off in a series of disjointed profanity. Yes, 
there he sat and smoked, solemnly poring over Mr. Hal- 
lock’s Announcement, occasionally blinking a juicy eye or 
wagging a well crisped fin. His troutship had captured a 
leader this time that was evidently too much for him. 
Ah me! it was monstrous cruel 
To be brought to earth by—“come take your gruel,” 
I swallowed the compound, and still live, an admirer of 
nature, and of the weekly journal that champions the noble 
and the good in all things pertaining to Fur, Fin and 
Feather, and to the advancement, in a proper direction, of 
physical culture, with a judicious recognition of excellence 
where such recognition is justly merited—the paper par 
excellence of its order in America. What suggestions of 
the evening camp fire, the fragrant hemlock couch, the 
quieting after supper smoke, and the final “turn in,” are 
depicted in the elegant frontispiece, the scene at the left 
being almost an exact representation of the camp ground 
of the ‘.‘Black Fly Club” at Long Lake some years ago. 
A worthy club was the B. F. C., but the elements of 
cohesion were sadly wanting; the organization ceased to be. 
Speaking about Long Lake calls to mind a funny episode, 
one of the many which befell “us boys” during the pereg¬ 
rinations in the Adirondacks, of the defunct but ever to be 
remembered “Black Fly Club.” 
While at Long Lake our “special artist” (C. R. F.) be¬ 
came suddenly afflicted with a jumping toothache while 
“bolting” his evening meal, (he always did “bolt” every¬ 
thing but the cabin door), and frantically demanded a 
“tooth carpenter.” The dental craft being poorly repre¬ 
sented in this section, he was advised to search his “dark 
box” for alcohol, to allay the distressing torment, but alas! 
none could be found. The ardent had run out when we 
were over on the Big Carry. 
At this juncture one of the guides raised on his elbow 
and remarked that he “knowed a man they called Smith 
acrost the lake yonder that yanked ’em for the neighbors!?) 
off an on, an praps we ken find him to hum’ an if he is, 
Mr. picter man, (with a sly wink) “he’ll jerk yer ball-head¬ 
ed or my name is’nt Steve Turner.” 
ko sooner said than done. Steve and I were. quickly at 
the oars pulling with a will for the other side of the lake. 
In the stern of the boat sat the unfortunate sufferer, howl¬ 
ing with pain and tearing his hair with desperation. In 
half an hour we ran alongside a rude landing, and looking 
toward the clearing espied a habitation and several signs 
of life, in the way of gaunt hounds and a thinly stocked 
farm yard. “Hello, there! Hello!” bawled our guide, and 
immediately there hove in sight the stalwart form of 
Smith. 
“Here is a customer I’ve brought ye. Are you doin, 
any pullin’ now days?” “Wall” said this Godsend, “I 
haint looked down in the mouth to any alarmin’ extent 
lately; but if you’ll assist the gentleman into the house, 
praps I can relieve him; ’tall events I ken try, ye know—I 
alius bring suthin', that’s one satisfaction I enjoy over them 
air city chaps—I’m powerful you see, an. when I fix on a 
mouth, as I said afore, suthin’ er other’s bound to come,” 
and he laughed a fiendish laugh which would have crushed 
a less determined man than our afflicted friend. 
“I don’t like your style of “bringing suthin’, ” said he. 
* ‘Its all fun for you, but death to me. ” Cot anything to 
take, Smith? I want a “stiffner,” I don’t care what it is, 
camphor or kerosene, any thing to give me great hopes, 
for my teeth come hard—most infernal hard.” 
Being accommodated with a “smile” from a flask which 
our professional friend carried, his courage came back, and 
prospects brightened. As we neared the house I espied, 
nearly buried in the sand, the remains of a huge horse s jaw. 
“Ah! thought I,” here’s a chance for a practical joke at 
our worthy artist’s expense. I loosened the larger of the 
two remaining teeth, and placing the relic quietly in my 
pocket unseen, followed the trio into the “sittin room. 
Once inside the Smith mansion, it was the work of a mo¬ 
ment for the operator to find his “kit.” The victim oc¬ 
cupied the chair” by being placed flat upon his back on the 
sanded floor. The strong arms of the guide held him firmly. 
Smith produced his “kit.” Great heavens! a pair of bullet 
moulds as I live! (sixteen balls to the pound). “This is 
what I do it with,” said the Dentist, “in argavated cases,” 
as he tried to force the huge instrument into the artist’s 
capacious orifice. His attemps to grapple with the raging 
fang were abortive. 
“I’ll hev to trim down the goom I reckon;” so he cut 
around the tooth, and was preparing for another lunge 
with the tool, when his wife came to the rescue with an 
ancient instrument like a jack-screw—one long since dis¬ 
carded in the science of dentistry, but a thing of terrible 
power. Smith succeeded in fastening on with this concern 
and began to twist. He sweated, he wrenched, he swore. 
The patient struggled, howled, kicked, and kept up a series 
of half strangled yells which were distinctly heard at the 
camp. I stood trembling with fear, with clasped hands, 
wondered and prayed. ■ All was of no avil, the tooth would 
not succumb. 
The artist respited from what to him was worse than the 
tortures of the Inquisition, rolled in helpless agony upon 
the floor, upsetting sundry buckets, and causing consterna¬ 
tion amongst the younger members of the Smith family. 
A mysterious jug was here produced, from which 
“Old Forceps” revived himself, and a nip was wor¬ 
ried into the distracted victim. Again the “chair” was 
taken, strong arms once more bound him fast, the 
murderous instrument was attached, and the torture 
began anew. Smith’s blood was up, his reputation 
was at stake. He was bound to win, and he did. This 
time victory perched on the dental banner. There was 
a crack, a crunch, an infernal howl, and then, the tooth 
was out. 
If the artist was half crazed before the pulling, he cer¬ 
tainly seemed quite beside himself now with joy at the 
denouement. The blood streamed from his lips, and 
with dishevelled hair, he appeared more like a maniac than 
the “Special Artist of the Black Fly Club.” He embraced 
all in the room. He sang and shouted, “the tooth’s out! 
Hurrah! the tooth’s out! Bully for Smith! Smith let’s 
have something! Where’s the tooth?” Now, I had “fix¬ 
ed” the tooth which I had chosen to exhibit, and presenting 
it to him, remarked, that “as a toothist I thought he was a 
success.” 
The expression which, burst over the features of the poor 
fellow I shall never forget—never. He spoke not a word. 
He w as too full for utterance. Nonplussed for once—he 
strode from the house in the direction of the landing, 
Steve and myself following, convulsed with laughter. 
Once again in the boat, we soon drew up at our camp, 
where the party were awaiting the results of our visit to 
Smith’s. The “Picter man” suddenly revived his wonted 
fervor on the subject of dentistry, and leaped waist deep 
into the lake, shouting like a dervish as he scrambled up 
the bank, “the tooth’s out, boys! the tooth’s out! Three 
cheers for Smith, Hip! Hip!” A demand was made for the 
molar, not as actual proof, however, that such had been 
extracted, for there was every evidence that something 
had been done. The curiosity to see an artist’s tooth 
drawn by Smith prevailed upon the possessor of the relic 
to pass it round, when it at once became the topic of 
much conjecture, as a matter of course. 
One of the club having a scientific turn of mind, gave it 
as his opinion “that ’twas no human tooth, but evidently 
belonged to a herbiverous race, a horse perhaps; “and,” 
said he, “I can discover minute portions of grass, which 
the animal was wont to masticate. The bewildered “spe¬ 
cial” sprang to his feet and declared the statement false, 
and without a shadow of truth. “I am a herbiverous ani¬ 
mal, eh? I’m a horse, am I? and a masticator of herbs? 
That tooth, gentlemen,came with more than ordinary persua¬ 
sion from this jaw of mine. I know, you see; I was there. 
That you have discovered traces of a grass diet thereon is 
nothing remarkable, in a scientific point of view; for in all 
probability that may be some of last year's lettuce." 
This was too much, we could hold in no longer. We 
told our little story amid peals of laughter, in which the 
“sold” Photographer vociferously joined—avowing, how¬ 
ever, that he would be “even with us,” and as near as I can 
remember he was triumphantly successful while we were 
in camp on Big Tupper. H. E. 0. 
—A Zanzibar letter says that Dr. Livingstone’s remains 
were exposed to the sun for a month to dry, and then pack¬ 
ed in a hollowed tree, wrapped round with cloth, and the 
natives carrying it supposed it a bale of cloth, or kanrki. 
This Journal is the Official Organ of the Fish Cult 
ists’ Association. 
PRACTICAL FISH CULTURE. 
No. 5— The Hatching House. 
T HIS building is a necessity to one who makes a busi 
ness of trout growing, or who intends to hatch ten 
thousand or more fish each year, but although notan 
expensive structure, still it is too costly for any one who 
only wishes to hatch a few thousand; and as all the works 
on fish culture describe the hatching of eggs in a well a 
pointed building, a beginner, who is only inclined 
to try a thousand or two the first year by way of ejperi 
ment to see if he can do it, and learn if the water is right 
and see if all the various conditions required by the ega- 
and embryo are to be found in his stream, naturally looks-, 
at the comparative cost of a building and the few eggs it } g 
expected to develope, he then truthfully argues that he can 
buy his fish already hatched much cheaper than he can do it 
himself, and thus foregoes the satisfaction that one feels in 
watching his first batch of eggs quicken into life. The man 
of wealth can build a fine house and hatch his eggs regard¬ 
less of cost, and while giving a description of a house with 
all the improved appliances for doing the work in a 
thorough and convenient manner we will also consider the 
wants of the man, say a farmer, who, having a spring 
and from reading accounts of successes in fish culture has' 
after much thought, concluded to risk ten dollars in an 
investment in trout spawn, bnt is not willing to go further 
at first in an enterprise so entirely new to him. and of which, 
he has only the most vague ideas. He wants no house, and: 
if he has read that one is indispensible he abandons the 
project as too costly an experiment for him. 
There are several ways in which he may hatch his few 
dollars’ worth of eggs at an outlay of a few cents.' If he 
has five thousand eggs he can get three old well seasoned 
boards and make a trough six or eight feet long and a foot 
wide, close one end tight and put coarse wire at the outlet 
to keep out animals, put three or four strips across the bot¬ 
tom (inside) to hold the gravel, get fine gravel or coarse sand 
and wash it well and put in a layer of it half an inch deep, 
put the trough where a stream as large as a lead pencil can 
fall in at the upper end, and incline the trough so that the 
water just ripples over the strips, put your spawn on the 
gravel, cover it from light and animals, look at it every 
day to see that the flow is right, pick out the dead eggs, 
and let the others hatch. That is certainly not expen¬ 
sive, and may be made as effective as the most costly ar¬ 
rangements. If it is difficult to arrange a spout to fall into 
the trough as described, then cut a hole in the tight end 
and put a screen over it and let the water in that way, or 
get a piece of wire cloth one square foot for each thousand 
eggs, turn up the edges or tack it on a frame and set it in 
your spring, treat the wire with tar as will be described for 
Brackett’s trays, let the frame come above the water and 
cover it with a board. 
A house can be built for hatching very cheaply, as a light 
frame and rough boards will do; it need not be over six 
feet high at the eaves, and need have no up-stairs; plenty 
of light from all sides is desirable, as if it all comes from 
one side, then it is impossible to see eggs or fish on the- 
shady side of the troughs. Skylights have been used, and: 
although I have never seen them, I think they would be 
good. 
The house on Honeoye falls is an old one that was built 
for a dwelling, and is 18x20 feet. This is a good size, as it 
will accommodate six troughs fifteen feet long and as many 
inches wide, placed by twos, with passage ways between,, 
and leave five feet at the ends for table and tools. Having 
a good stone quarry on the place I may built a house of 
stone in a year or two. . 
If you want an office or work shop attached, have it out¬ 
side, do not try to keep books, papers, microscope, or tools 
in the hatching house, as the dampness ruins everything; 
closets therefore are of little use. The arrangement of the 
details of a fish breeding establisment is of course different 
at different places, and subject to the will and judgment of 
the proprietor. Some have the commissary department m 
the hatching house, and a meat chest can be put up by the 
filter, but the chopping block, if in the house, should not 
rest on the floor, as the jar it occasions is bad for the eggs. 
At my own place I have a fine basement barn between the 
dwelling and the ponds, and the hatching house is beyond 
them, therefore the meat box and chopping block are lo¬ 
cated in the barn. . 
The size of the house should of course be governed oy 
the amount of business that may at any future time 
done upon the place, calculating that each square toot oi 
trough should be allowed for each thousand eggs. An 
ratio, although great for the hatching, will be found no 
too much when the fish come to be fed in the same troug 
wherein they were hatched. We who take spawn, keep 
until partly developed and then ship it or hatch it and 
the fish just before feeding, can put many more eggs i 
trough than one should who hatchesfor himself alone. 
The water supply should be plentiful, and if ta -k® n * r 
the head of the spring is better than if . procured i 
down. A few months ago there was quite a contro j 
between Dr. Hetting, inspector of fish at Christina, Nor ji 
and Professor Yon der Wengen, in reference to the 
desirable water for hatching the eggs of the ar 
former recommending that it be taken from a point a*i 
the origin of the spring as possible, while the latter f 
‘ that by so doing there will be a scarcity of air in tne 
which, as he says, will have a pernicious efiect iip “ 
young fish. He thinks that it is of the utmost im P. u e 
that the water should previously traverse a cons , ^ 
distance, and be more or less disturbed by iahs 
structions so as to absorb a large amount oi an. 
