Forest and Stream 
|3 a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy, 
Six Months, $1.50. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, MAY 24, 1913. 
VOL. LXXX.—No. 21. 
127 Franklin St., New York 
Recreation, Sport and Other Uncertainties 
I T is said every interesting life is imbued 
with a rilling spirit. However that may be, 
certainly there is a strong desire in the 
hearts of persons of varied occupations to 
spend periodically a portion of their time in 
out-of-door recreation and to seek, amid scenes 
close to nature, relaxation from the routine of 
daily toil. 
There is a keen and fraternal interest be¬ 
tween the participants in the various pastimes 
pursued in field, forest and stream. The prin¬ 
ciple of human nature, on which all depend, is 
the same, "undying spirit of contest,” relief 
By WILLIAM SIMPSON 
Photographs by the Author. 
fatuation of anglers for their joyous pastime. 
Cheerfulness is the spring from which their en¬ 
joyment flows; it is the parent of their friend¬ 
ship, and friendship is the key to their happi¬ 
ness, and if nothing happens to prevent, they 
just go fishing. 
No angler ought to go away on a fishing 
trip without taking along some of the choicest 
fishing literature, “Little Rivers” and Fisher¬ 
man’s Luck,” literature by Dr. Henry Van Dyke, 
who, in his contributions to fishing literature, is 
like the Statue of Liberty in New York Bay, 
towering alone in classic dignity. His books 
went along. 'I'hat is certainly the greatest fish¬ 
ing story ever told. It is two thousand years 
old, and undoubtedly will endure to the end of 
time. 
Angling, by choice, my chief form of recre¬ 
ation, is the earliest art practiced and enjoyed 
by man. No one knows its origin. It ante¬ 
dates history. We fishermen have an excellent 
right to be proud of our pastime. It takes us 
away from the bustle and commonplace of 
busy existence to indulge and revel in physical, 
mental and comparatively seclusive enjoyment. 
It takes us out to the forest primeval, where 
ON THE SPENCER STREAM. 
SPORTSMAN’S HAPPY HOME. 
from the humdrum of monotony and, life for 
awhile, in a state of primitive simplicity. 
Many of the troubles of highly civilized 
life are caused by high-strung tension, too 
often worked up to nerve-breaking point by 
precise nicety. One day follows tbe other in 
a minute regularity of smooth monotonous ex¬ 
istence. We look back over the past, and for a 
time we see a regular performance and we 
predict that to-morrow, the next day and the 
day after, will be like yesterday. But stop! 
You are surely dallying with uncertainty. “All 
work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” and 
is the path that leads to the office of the doctor, 
who often reverses the proceedings, and we 
have to acknowledge with Robert Burns that— 
The best laid schemes o’ mice and men 
Gang aft a-gley. 
Only those who have been inoculated with the 
true spirit of outdoor life wonder at the in¬ 
will brighten your camp, and if you are gloomy, 
they will dispel the gloom. Don’t forget to add 
a copy of “Fishing Jimmy,” by Annie Turn- 
bull Slosson. It is the most touching and pa¬ 
thetic of stories and is told in a quaint inim¬ 
itable manner. “Men I Have Fished With” 
and “My Angling Friends,” by Fred Mather, 
are a source of great pleasure, full of quaint 
and delightful humor, and if you desire to enter 
the realm of a salmon fisherman, read “With 
Fly Rod and Camera,” beautifully written by 
Edward A. Samuels, v;ho relates his observa¬ 
tions as an expert salmon fisher with a charm 
of manner, illustrated profusely with reproduc¬ 
tions from many truly beautiful photographs. 
Never were the hearts of men moved by 
deeper emotions than were those who listened 
to Peter at the Sea of Tiberias, when he said, 
“I go a-fishing.” At any rate, they said, “We 
also go with thee,” and it is recorded they all 
at every turn new and unexplored features 
claim our wonder and admiration, where noth¬ 
ing is commonplace or tame, while the scenery 
is sure to please and enrich the memory. 
To have your guide—the child of ex¬ 
pedience—prepare at noon in the open your 
dinner, which you enjoy with keen appetite 
that only can be derived from active life in the 
bracing mountain air, and to return to your 
camp in the cool of the evening to the music 
of the flute-like song of the hermit thrush lead¬ 
ing a concert of feathered songsters, and at 
the close of the day to enjoy that sleep that 
comes so easily and sweetly to the tired fish¬ 
erman. There may be better pastimes, but if 
there are, they are unknown to me. 
Some of the pleasantest recollections of 
my life are those looking from their hiding 
places in memory a half century ago, on the 
heathery banks of a Scotch burn with a youth- 
