FOREST AND STREAM 
For Sale. 
RAINBOW TROUT 
are well adapted to Eastern waters. Try stocking 
with some of the nice yearlings or fry from our 
hatchery, and you will be pleased with the results. 
PLYMOUTH ROCK TROUT COMPANY 
Colburn C. Wood, Supt., Plymouth, Mass. 
Small-Mouth Black Bass 
We have the only establishment dealing in young 
small-mouth black bass commercially in the United 
States Vigorous young bass in various sizes, rang¬ 
ing from advanced fry to 3 and 4 inch fingerlings 
for stocking purposes. 
Waramaug Small-Mouth Black Bass Hatchery. 
Correspondence invited. Send for Circulars. Address 
HENRY W. BEAMAN - New Preston, Conn. 
of a11 ages for stocking 
DFOOK A 1 UUl brooks and lakes. Brook 
trout eggs in any quantity. Warranted delivered 
anywhere in fine condition. Correspondence solicited. 
THE PLYMOUTH ROCK TROUT CO. 
Plymouth, Mass. 
THE PHEASANT—W. B. Tegetmeier. The natu¬ 
ral history and practical management of pheasants. A 
complete and practical work for sportsman and market 
breeder. Illustrations from life with colored plates 
and numerous full-page reproductions. Cloth. Post¬ 
paid, $3.50. 
THE WAY OF THE WOODS—Edward Breck. A 
practical field manual with concise information on all 
points connected with life in the woods—outfitting, fish¬ 
ing, shooting, canoeing, tenting, trapping, photo¬ 
graphy, cooking, hygiene, etc. Cloth, illus., 465 pages. 
Postpaid, $1.90. 
HITTING vs MISSING—S. T. Hammond. A man¬ 
ual for the field shooter, by a most successful field 
shot. Contents—Choosing the Gun, the All Around 
Gun, Practice at Stationary and Moving Marks, Shoot¬ 
ing Companions, Among the Birds. Cloth, 250 pages. 
Postpaid, $1.00. 
THE PISTOL AND REVOLVER—A. L. Himmel- 
wright, Pres. U. S. Revolver Asso. This work is 
strictly up-to-date, including the latest development in 
smokeless powders. It covers military, target, pocket 
types, ammunition, sights, position, target shooting, 
olubs and ranges, hints for beginners, selection of arms, 
manipulation, the cleaning and care of arms, rules and 
matches. Cloth, illus., 150 pages. Postpaid, cloth, 
$1.00; Morocco, $1.50; paper, 60 cents. 
HORSE AND HOUND-Col. Roger D. Williams. 
The American book of fox hunting. It deals first with 
the hunter, its breeding, schooling and selection, cross 
country riding, the American fox hound, his origin and 
qualities. It tells much of the fox, work in the field, 
and among hunting clubs. The style is clear, crisp 
and interesting. Cloth, illus., 223 pages. Postpaid, $2.50. 
LOG CABINS AND COTTAGES—William S. Wicks. 
This book covers building for the woods from the 
simplest shelter to the most elaborate cottage, cabin 
or house, and their furnishing and fitting. The de¬ 
tails and directions are at once simple and compre¬ 
hensive, and the illustrations are numerous and illum¬ 
inative. Cloth, illus., 44 full page plates and numer¬ 
ous text illustrations. Postpaid, $1.50. 
GRAY VAGABONDS AND RED. 
(Continued from page 433.) 
distinct muskrat trail, showing liberal places 
where a trap might readily be inserted with pro¬ 
lific results. So is the afternoon spent, taking 
notes o'f things, reading the book of Nature. 
He notes as he proceeds the different birds 
flying by; the robins, the yellow-hammers, the 
blackbirds, the chickadees, the warblers, the jun- 
coes and a number of others. Autumn is their 
season of banding together for the trip south; 
the woods resound with a startling clearness to 
their notes; there is pleasure in viewing all 
things, for all things are now surrounded with 
some mystic charm that cannot but arouse the 
most latent feeling. Perhaps there is no more 
pleasing hour of the day than that of sunset. 
Then are all the dreams and hours of retrospec¬ 
tion gathered together, and given us as one; the 
mellowing skies in the westward; the greater si¬ 
lence and the deeper peace; the searching wist¬ 
fulness of the winds that hover among the sere 
wayside reeds; the murmur of the cricket; the 
rustle of the birds feeding among the fallen 
thicket leaves—all these act as agents of the 
greatest attachment Nature has upon man. 
Now upon the stillness sounds a barking note. 
The ear catches it. Slowly down the path, spot¬ 
ted here and there with glimmers of doWn-pour- 
ing sunshine, the still-hunter makes forward. 
The evening hour has its game as well as its 
charm. See! there a sleek gray form passes 
swiftly along the tree branches in the endeavor 
to escape. The gun follows that course unerr¬ 
ingly. There for a moment that fleeing one 
pauses, preparatory to making a phenomenal leap 
to another tree. It proves fatal, that pause; for 
the hunter sights swiftly along the barrel; the 
finger touches the trigger, and a moment later 
the victim comes tumbling to earth! 
Perhaps on the homeward path, through the 
folds of the lowering shadows, a partridge will 
boom out and will come to perch upon a stump 
nearby, there to sit, silent and immovable. 
Was it a feathered form the still-hunter held 
up some time later, and with eyes a-light viewed 
it? The prize of all prizes! The overshadow¬ 
ing climax! The goal of the heart’s desire! 
Give me therefore the reign of the Still-hunter 
Supreme; and give me the season of the still- 
hunter, the gorgeous autumnal months, when 
Nature looks her fondest upon the resting land, 
ere she is hidden by the swirls and whirls of 
snow; and ere the battalions of destruction 
boom down from the frigid north, to bring death 
to the flowers of yesterday, and the leaves that 
have fallen to the earth in such unstinted abun¬ 
dance. 
Give me the still-huriter’s small weapon. Keep 
all guns that have won a reputation for butchery 
and much of it. Give me the true eye; the 
true mind; the unerring precision; the steadi¬ 
ness and the firmness, and I shall know that the 
man is also a good father to his children. Give 
me the still-hunter who will love Nature for Na¬ 
ture herself. Who will secure from her magni¬ 
ficent storehouse both intelligence and courage 
to continue upon his pathway, obeying the im¬ 
pulse to find heaven in the smaller things, for 
in the smaller things are found the greater. 
TO A BLUE JAY. 
By John Trotwood Moore. 
O, the world is all against you, Blue Jay, Blue 
Jay; 
O, the world is all against you now, I say, 
With your tweedle, tweedle, tweedle, 
And your jay! jay! jay! 
And your saucy, whistling wheedle 
Just before you fly away 
To pounce down on the juiciest and the sweetest 
roasting ear; 
To steal the ripest Concords in the sunshine 
purpling near; 
To run off all the song-birds with your blust’ring, 
bragging tongue, 
And break the hearts of mother birds by eating 
up their young— 
Then to perch up on the highest limb upon the 
apple tree 
And call up mourners ’round you with your 
tweedle! tweedle! twee! 
453 
You’re a robber, robber, robber, 
Blue Jay, Blue Jay, 
And a hypocrite and bully, 
As all the world doth say. 
O, the world is all against you, Blue Jay, Blue 
Jay; 
O, the world is all against you now, I say, 
But your tweedle, tweedle, tweedle, 
And your jay! jay! jay! 
And your saucy, laughing wheedle 
Brought again to me, to-day, 
The time we stole together, in the summer long 
ago; 
The cherries and the peaches and the grapes of 
purple glow. 
The day we climbed the chestnut for the Yellow 
Hammers’ nest, 
And you gave it up, disconsolate, because I 
robbed the best! 
And I see the old home once again, the fig tree 
in the sun, 
While a boy slips all around them with a single- 
barrel gun, 
And he brings it to his shoulder as he sees a 
bobbing head— 
Bang! and he’s a murderer—for old Blue Jay ii 
dead! 
Was I a robber, robber, 
In the summer long ago, 
When I barbecued and ate you 
With my sportsman’s pride aglow? 
Ah, some grown-up folks are like you, Blue Jay, 
Blue Jay; 
Ah, some grown-up folks are like you now, I 
say— 
For they tweedle, tweedle, tweedle, 
When they wish to have their way, 
And they wheedle, wheedle, wheedle, 
In their tricks of trade to-day. 
And they pounce upon their fellow man and steal 
his very best— 
His eggs of reputation, and his cherries—happi¬ 
ness, 
And you’ll find their crops distended with the 
plunder they have won, 
While their tongues are shooting slander (ah, 
’tis worse than any gun), 
And they thrive and fill and fatten till they go 
to get their due 
In another world—Oh, Blue Jay, won’t they 
make a barbecue? 
Then sing away your robber song 
Of jay! jay! jay! 
Till some robber mortal comes along 
And sees himself to-day. 
LOW WATER IN THE NILE. 
A Cairo correspondent writes to the Manche3“ 
ter “Guardian” that, owing to the falling of the 
Nile, Egypt will have to import nearly all her 
rice this year. The Nile has not been so low 
for nearly 100 years, and the facilities for water 
storage have been insufficient to relieve the dis¬ 
tress. 
