FOREST AND STREAM 
297 
Quick on the Trigger 
With a Snap-Shot Eye 
I ^HE crack trapshooter has to be a man 
with steady nerves and muscles absolutely 
under control—always ready at the sudden 
jerk of the string to swing his gun into place 
and bring down his clay pigeon. This means 
trained, not to the minute, but to the split- 
second. He takes no chances with his nerves. 
We present the names of some of these 
crack shots who smoke Tuxedo. They like 
to smoke; but they take no chances on a 
tobacco that might “throw them off.” They 
use Tuxedo because it is mild, relaxing, 
steadying—strictly pure. 
You take no chances, either, when you 
smoke Tuxedo. You can smoke it all day 
long, all the time. 
The Perfect Tobacco for Pipe and Cigarette 
is purposely made to give you all the bene¬ 
fits of the highest grade smoke. It is made 
from the very finest tobacco Kentucky grows 
— ripe, mellow, sweet and mild old Burley, 
aged right up to perfection - day. Then 
treated by the original “Tuxedo Process,” 
which takes out the sting, makes Tuxedo 
smoke cool and slow, and guarantees that it 
cannot bite your tongue. 
YOU CAN BUY TUXEDO EVERYWHERE 
Convenient pouch, inner-lined f 
DC lettering,curvedtofitpocket 
Famous green tin with gold 10c 
with moisture-proof paper - - 
In Glass Humidors, 50c and 90c 
SAMPLE TUXEDO FREE—Send us 2c in stamps for postage 
and we will mail you prepaid a souvenir tin of TUXEDO tobacco 
to any point in the United States. 
TUXEDO DEPARTMENT, 111 Fifth Avenue, New York 
GEORGE W. MAXWELL 
leading trapshooter 
“I find complete enjoy¬ 
ment in Tuxedo. It's a nerve 
steadi r and a sure fire, slow- 
burning tobacco. ” 
FRED GILBERT 
celebrated trapshooter 
“The coolest, most fra¬ 
grant tobacco to my expe¬ 
rience — Tuxedo. Leads in 
mildness and purity.’’ 
TOM A. MARSHALL 
famous crack shot 
“Tuxedo tobacco is un¬ 
questionably the acme of 
perfection; smoking Tuxedo 
makes life better worth 
living. ” 
WANTS FUR BEARERS TRANSFERRED. 
The duty of looking after the fur-bearing ani¬ 
mals of Alaska, which, he says, is an “incongru¬ 
ous service,” and one “not even remotely related 
to the legitimate functions of the Bureau of Fish¬ 
eries,” should be transferred to another branch 
of the service, says Dr. H. M. Smith, head of the 
Federal Bureau of Fisheries, in his annual report. 
Attention is called by Dr. Smith to the need 
for an experiment station to study fish diseases, 
and problems in fish breeding. As a result of the 
work in investigating cancerous tumors in trout, 
the commissioner says there is necessity now of 
preventing and curing the disease in streams and 
hatcheries. He points to the economic value of 
this work, and cites the case of one hatchery, at 
Holden, Vt., where last year more than 350,000 
trout, the entire stock on hand, died of an epi¬ 
demic. 
Funds should be provided, he says, for the 
study of oyster culture, which “presents many 
difficulties and dangers the growers are not in a 
position to combat.” 
THE ANGLING HAT-RACK. 
(Continued from page 303.) 
might tell his children about it. But the actual 
facts concerning this incident were, if anything, 
much more exciting than as I have told it. 
There was a question whether the preacher was 
bluffing or whether he meant it and would have 
fired, and I am confident that the men sized up 
their opponent accurately and with good judg¬ 
ment. 
It was here that the doctor developed a mania 
for the traveling hat-rack. He made it himself 
from the graceful and silvery branches of birch, 
a natural hat-rack with four or five natural 
branches, and I am not sure if it had been left 
in the forest and its flat base covered, but what 
it would have sprouted, budded and produced a 
crop of hats. In any event, the doctor insisted 
upon taking it on the next trip, and so we started. 
The chief somewhat reticent, not exactly liking 
the precedent; the men amazed—for who had 
ever seen a hat-rack on its travels in a country 
where it was enough to carry one’s pack, gun and 
rod? I fell in with the notion, for as I have con¬ 
fessed, I like the creature comforts no matter 
where I am. We were going to a distant lake— 
I do not remember which it was. Lac Antikucuak 
it may have been—but when we came to the long 
carry of two and a half miles, it was a joy to 
see the doctor and his six-foot hat-rack He 
carrried nothing else, and his fine Napoleonic 
figure with this new angler’s tool had a martial 
appearance as he strode off while I fell in be¬ 
hind; then came the canoemen, and the packs, 
guns, rods, etc. 
There had been rain in the night, and when the 
sun rose and began to penetrate the splendid 
forest it grew warm and warmer yet. The trail 
was winding and made a sharp descent, as our 
camp must have been up 1,500 feet. I was swing¬ 
ing along and suddenly, as I rounded a turn, I 
came upon the doctor. The hat-rack stood in the 
center of the trail and on it hung the doctor’s 
hat, and the doctor himself stood leaning against 
the black birch admiring it. Accepting his in¬ 
vitation, I hung up my own hat, and at once be¬ 
came a convert to the traveling hat-rack—that is, 
so long as I had some enthusiast to carry it, and 
1 had. It was the doctor’s; he made it. Nat¬ 
urally, no one could be entrusted with it. So no 
one offered to carry it. It made the rest of the 
cavalcade laugh as they came up to see us stand¬ 
ing there with our hats hung up, but that was a 
part of the game. We laughed all day. 
I traveled with the hat-rack, and when we did 
not use it the birds would light in it. When we 
reached a lake, the doctor placed it amidships in 
the canoe between his knees and pinned a red 
bandana to it as a flag, which gave the canoe a 
piquant appearance. In short, that article be¬ 
came ornamental as well as useful. I really be¬ 
lieve a man could have hanged himself from it, 
but no one did. It now stands in the home camp 
of San Souci. There is no patent applied for, 
there are no restrictions, "no str,ngs on it,” ex¬ 
cept drying trout lines. The ethics of the medi¬ 
cal profession prohibit this. It is open to the 
anglers of the world, and I commend it to those 
dismal, unhilarious anglers, if any there be, who 
never laugh. There was magic in that hat-rack. 
The ring of the prophet and the lamp of Ala- 
din made men and women weep and beat their 
breasts, but this hat-rack bubbled over with mer¬ 
riment. No one could look at it, or ever did look 
at it, when it was in active service, without burst¬ 
ing into a peal of laughter. For laughter, aftei 
all, is the most delightful thing in the world, 
and without it angling becomes mere fishing. 
