you come, the old gentleman stormed somethin’ 
awful at Joshuey, ’cause he forgot to bring shot 
an’ powder frum town.’ ” 
With a far away look the doctor gazed un- 
seeingly at the rural scene outside the car win¬ 
dow. Then he resumed: “The housekeeper was 
a good soul; but she evidently believed that con¬ 
fession about other people was good for that 
soul of hers. So she further confided to me, 
‘An’, Mr. Samuel, one day last spring the old 
gentleman went out in the rain with his gun. 
He came back drippin’ wet. With that cough 
o’ his’n, it scared me almost into a conniption 
tantrum. But he only pshawed me, an’ smiled 
to hisself, pleased an’ happy as a boy, as he 
pulled out o’ his pocket a wee, long-billed bird. 
He whispered “snipe,” kinder to hisself like. I 
tol’ him to take off his wet clothes, an’ git into 
a hot foot-bath, but he didn’t 'pear to hear me 
any more then a cat watchin’ a robin. Instead, 
he went into the parlor, an’ sat down by the 
table. The picter of your mother, an’ you be¬ 
side her when you was a boy—you recollect the 
picter you had took up to Syracuse—that picter 
was before the old gentleman. He put the bird 
on the table before the picter, and then he threw 
his arms aroun’ you both, an’ laid his head down. 
I tip-toed away, because I never had seen the 
old gentleman cry before.’ ” 
Dr. Totham looked off into the sunset sky. 
which was now kissing the car windows with the 
reflected ruddy lips of departing day. Then he 
wheeled around to me and remarked: “The 
housekeeper heard father mutter to himself as 
he arose from the picture on the table, ‘I guess 
I was a leetle too stern with ’em both.’ 
"The next day after my discovery of the an¬ 
cient shotgun in the old homestead, I felt a 
desire come over me to try the old trout stream 
which ran through the meadow and woodlot of 
our farm. The housekeeper saw me digging- 
worms in the garden, and presently came out 
with a cheap two-joint rod. I asked her where 
she had found that and she replied that she 
didn’t think the old gentleman would mind my 
using it, unless he wanted to go along himself. 
Just as I was passing the porch, father came 
out, and in tones which I recognized as of old, 
commanded, ‘Samuel, mind you don’t break that 
fish pole—cost me eight shillings.’ 
“I invited father to come along, almost catch¬ 
ing my breath at my hardihood. He declined 
curtly, again cautioning me to be careful. About 
dusk I came home, tired, happy and proud, for I 
had revisited the favorite fishing pools of my 
boyhood—and, I had landed some fine trout. 
With the triumph of a lad I exhibited the big¬ 
gest ones. Father eyed them critically, and un¬ 
guardedly blurted out: ‘Pshaw, Samuel, them’s 
minnies—I got a lunker tother day in the old 
alder hole that plumped the scales at two pound!’ 
Then, recovering himself, he added, ‘Had to catch 
a few fish for Deacon Tugby’s sick girl. Guess 
I’ll turn in, Samuel, as I’ve had my supper, and 
I’ve got a considerable to do tomorrow.’ ” 
The doctor smiled at the sunset, and returned 
to his story: “I went back to the city a new 
man, and with a new light regarding my father’s 
inward and true attitude toward hunting and 
fishing. Christmas eve I arrived again at the 
old homestead. After supper father and I sat 
before the fire, a dish of apples and a pitcher 
of sweet cider between us. 
FOREST AND STREAM 
“Naturally our conversation ran back to Christ¬ 
mas eve of the old days, when we were an un¬ 
broken family circle. Presently father hitched 
uneasily in his chair, and looking me squarely 
in the face, said, ‘Sammy, it’s been on my mind 
many a year, and I’ll feel better if I tell you.’ 
“The old gentleman seemed to be undergoing 
a severe struggle with himself. Then he straight¬ 
ened up, man fashion, and said: ‘Sammy, you 
remember that Christmas when mother gave you 
a real store boughten fish-rod, with the brass 
ferrules. It cost six shillings. You were very 
pleased—but I wasn’t. I spoiled that Christmas 
for you all by telling her that she was a waste¬ 
ful woman, and besides was encouraging you to 
grow up a shiftless and no-good sporting man. 
I was sorry the moment I said it, and I have 
been sorry ever since. God forgive me. I’m 
afraid, Sammy, I learned the lesson too late. 
I meant well, but I was too strict on some things. 
Don’t bring up your boys and girls my way. 
Life at the longest is very short. We can be 
better men and women by putting innocent pleas¬ 
723 
honestly to you. It was in my blood, too, my 
boy, but Deacon Smith insisted that hunting and 
fishing were wicked, and he got men to believe 
it after a while—especially as I wanted to marry 
his daughter. But I suspect that your mother 
never quite agreed with her father, don’t you, 
Sammy? Your mother was right—Fine gun this, 
Sammy, but I don’t seem to catch the end sight 
like I used to. Too expensive a plaything for 
me—you ought to save your money. But, boy, I 
know where we can get a rabbit tomorrow for 
our Christmas dinner—Rabbit beats turkey all 
holler.’ ” 
SANDUSKY FISHING IMPROVES. 
Sandusky, O., May 20.—Even though the Mid¬ 
dle Bass Club will have no regular season this 
year, there are a number of anglers at the is¬ 
land, and since the middle of last week there 
has been some good sport. Previous to that 
time stormy weather had riled the waters 
around the bass islands and fishing was poor. 
During the past week Leroy Brooks and a party 
“Mind You Don ’t Break That Fish Pole—CostMe Eight Shillings.” 
ure and recreation into our lives—we can’t be 
really good boys and girls, and good men and wo¬ 
men without it.’ 
“I consoled my remorseful father as well as I 
could. Then, handing him two packages, I asked 
him to accept them as Christmas presents. With 
trembling fingers he unwrapped the parcels. 
From one he took out the best double-barrel 
shotgun I could buy in those days, and from the 
other a serviceable trout rod. 
“I cannot describe father's pleasure and de¬ 
light as I helped him put the gun together and 
joint up the rod. Turning around, father threw 
his arms about me, whispering, ‘Sammy, I missed 
lots of fun by not going with you after snipe 
and trout when you were a lad—and, Sammy, 
how I wanted to, because when I was a boy I 
used to hunt and fish with my father! And 
what days we had together! Great shot was 
your grandfather. He could pick off a buck on 
the run at fifty rod, and knock off a squirrel’s 
head with a bullet, out of the tallest oak in the 
woods. And your great-grandfather, he was a 
noted Indian fighter. He helped drive off the 
redskins in the Mohawk Valley when good shoot¬ 
ing meant life for the settlers. 
“ ‘So, Sammy, your love for your gun comes 
of Toledo men have been occupying the club 
house. The Hillcrest Hotel was opened to-day 
to accommodate the Clark fishing party of 
Louisville, Ky., who arrived yesterday. 
The Quinnebog Club, at Old Hen Island, has 
been entertaining about forty anglers for over 
a week past. Among the fishermen are Attor¬ 
ney Carl B. Ford, J. J. Carroll, Edward C. 
Balzheiser, Robert E. Gill, Charles P. Salen, 
Dr. Keese and Dr. F. A. Abel, all of Cleveland, 
and William Wemmer, of Marion, O. 
E. F. WALRATH. 
LIVE NOTES. 
Dayton, O., May 13.—A handsome specimen of 
the Florida gallinule has taken up its abode 
with a flock of chickens owned by Roy Rayliff 
of Xenia, Ohio. The bird is rarely seen in this 
section of the country, being a native of the 
Florida lowlands and swamps. 
Perry Kipp of Dayton opened his 1914 spring 
fishing season on May 1, by landing an eight 
and three-quarter channel catfish. The haul was 
made from the Miami river near Tippecanoe 
City. Over forty pounds of this excellent specie 
was also landed by the lucky fisherman. Com¬ 
mon garden worms was the only bait used. 
