1096 
FOREST AND S T R E A M 
The Good Old Days Back Home 
UGUST is the vacation month—at least it 
is the month in which people think most of 
vacations, and indulge in them, for that 
matter. But when you were a boy at home, what 
vacation did ycu long for more than the “letting 
out” of school, and the prospect of several 
months surcease from the grind of daily lessons? 
If, happily, you lived on a farm, it no doubt 
was quickly impressed on you that man lives by 
the sweat of his brow, a maxim that has done 
more to drive the country boy to the city than 
any other inspiring cause of which we have rec¬ 
ord. Not that the country boy is lazy. Far from 
it. But he did, and still does, like to play occa¬ 
sionally, and the periods of days off were, and 
are, discouragiugly far apart. 
So the boy came to the city, and made a suc¬ 
cess of it. His name stands for much, perhaps, 
in certain circles, and he has time to slam down 
the lid of his desk when fancy—or more like 
the doctor’s warning—moves him to seek relaxa¬ 
tion, if it can be found, in doing the things that 
appeal to him most. 
What he does is immaterial. What appeals to 
him he never can have, save in remembrance, 
for he is thinking of the old days on the farm, 
and some way the memory of toil and monotony 
fades into nothingness besides the keen recollec¬ 
tion of the joys of country boyhood. 
How homely the old barn used to look; what a 
dreary vista of dust ribbon the road past the 
house presented, although it was ever fascinating, 
for in its lengthening perspective it led to the 
world outside—a world of infinite possibilities, 
until in years afterward one got to know how 
hollow and disillusionizing that big outside world 
could be. 
But the man in the city likes to forget that. 
He thinks rather of the past. No waters seem 
so beautiful as those wherein as a boy he caught 
his first fish, or rowed or paddled. No woods 
present the mysteries of those in which he first 
essayed the role of Nimrod. What of the rose¬ 
ate dawns, the sweet sounds and fragrance of 
spring; the time when every fibre thrilled with 
life? 
The tired man, however, while he is thus com¬ 
forting himself with sentimental reminiscence, is 
only fooling himself. When he was a boy he 
wasn’t thinking of roseate dawns and the like. 
He was only longing that a stern parent down¬ 
stairs would some day come to his senses and 
let a fellow have one good night’s sleep, instead 
of turning the family out at an unholy hour in 
the morning. 
The robin’s carol meant nothing—the robin was 
worse than the old man—for he and his tribe 
began their racket even earlier. It is a beautiful 
memory, nevertheless, and wonderfully comfort¬ 
ing .'to those who can conjure it up from ex¬ 
perience. Let us not begrudge it to them. 
Still, to jSpeak tire truth, the sunrises now are 
as beautiful, and the sounds and scenes of Na¬ 
ture cjuite as ravishing as in the old days. We 
lose in appreciation, perhaps, but that is not the 
fault of Nature. The blame lies with us. 
The “good old days” were just like these, that 
are born every time the sun comes up. The past 
may be a treasured memory; the present is bet¬ 
ter, for it is being lived. But the future is best, 
for it is yet to be enjoyed. 
The Cost of Out Door Sport 
EGRET is expressed betimes by people 
whose fondness for wholesome out door 
sport is in inverse ratio to their means of 
gratifying it that, as the different forms of it 
become more specialized in general and more re¬ 
fined in particular, the expense increases to a 
degree so high that their participation is almost 
prohibited. 
In a majority of cases, however, their stand¬ 
ard of the sport is based on the fashion and 
luxuries rather than on the substantial factors 
of it. There is no doubt that the most expensive 
forms of sport, within certain wise limitations, 
may be made the most pleasurable, but it does 
not by any means follow that less expensive 
forms are therefore devoid of all pleasure. 
In the serious affairs of life, people recognize 
that there is a law of supply and demand which 
determines values, and that there is a limit both 
in respect to quality and quantity beyond which 
they cannot venture. 
The same common sense applies to standards 
in sport, for in a similar manner it has its neces¬ 
sities and its luxuries. It has its implements of 
rare material, of mechanical excellence, of ar¬ 
tistic design and finish. It has others of equal 
utility, although perhaps of less elegance, to sup¬ 
ply the needs of him whose purse permits him to 
engage in sport at all. 
There is nothing inherently changeful in the 
sport itself which has made the transition from 
the inexpensive recreation of years ago to that 
of the present time. The essentials remain the 
same. Taste has been cultivated to a higher ar¬ 
tistic plane. Skill has improved and demanded 
finer mechanism. Wealth has become greater 
and more general, furnishing the wherewithal to 
gratify the craving for the best. The interests of 
sport have kept pace with the general advance¬ 
ment. 
Sport was less expensive some years ago, be¬ 
cause at that time one could not make it expens¬ 
ive if one endeavored to do so. There were not 
the thousand and one implements for the sports- 
maids need then on the market. 
The expensiveness of out door recreation, like 
that of living, is much as one makes it. It may 
be cheap or dear, sensible or foolish, original or 
imitative, wholesome or unwholesome—it is a 
matter in which the personal equation dominates. 
But at no time in the history of out door sport 
could its devotees obtain so many essential ar¬ 
ticles at so cheap a rate as they can at the pres¬ 
ent time. The true standard is to enjoy life with¬ 
in one’s means—a precept which was sound in 
the years gone by as it is to-day, and will be in 
the years to come. 
The New Outdoor Spirit 
F GOVERNMENT is but the expression of 
the people—although we are afraid that this 
comfortable doctrine is too often only a 
theory—then it is clear that the outdoor spirit is 
growing. For many years the only contact be¬ 
tween government, field sport and angling has 
been manifested in the elaboration of statutes 
known as the game laws—and the sad mess often 
resulting furnished evidence that this contact was 
based on anything but scientific principles. 
But affairs are improving. Not only are the 
game laws more nearly interpretative of condi¬ 
tions as they are, but the fact has dawned on the 
modern legislative world that because a man 
sometimes feels like seeking the woods, he is not, 
necessarily, a loafer, nor if he manifests a desire 
to take his family with him, is he insane. 
Thus we find that whereas twenty years ago 
the setting aside of a small fraction of the pub¬ 
lic domain for conservation or recreative pur¬ 
poses was regarded tolerantly as a confession to 
a loaferish or idling spirit, opinion to-day views 
the matter in an entirely different light. 
So we are not only getting more and more 
“parks,” as they are termed, comprising what in 
some instances constitute really great areas of 
beautiful domain, but the law is granting to the 
people whose property they are, the privilege of 
using them for rightful purposes. 
For instance, it is now possible for the citizen 
to obtain the right to make some small spot in 
these wildernesses a sort of transient home for 
himself and family, to be occupied during the 
outing season. 
No equity reverts to the holder of these privi¬ 
leges, and while the State of New York asserts 
its actual ownership to what might be termed 
fixed or permanent improvements, made, of 
course under official restrictions, the same prin¬ 
ciple would apply elsewhere almost without for¬ 
mality of enactment. 
The point is that the American citizen now 
realizes that some of the luxuries heretofore re¬ 
garded as beyond any but the very wealthy, are 
his for the asking. It means much for the na¬ 
tional health, now and in the future. There will 
be abuses, of course, but these will be the excep¬ 
tion, rather than the rule, and we have an idea 
that the transgressor will fare hard, indeed, if 
his neighbors are allowed to deal out his punish¬ 
ment. 
To own, even in the pleasant fiction expressed 
in a Government permit, a little spot that may 
be regarded as individual, is something that ap¬ 
peals to the imagination of the ordinary man and 
woman. This privilege is now within reach. 
As for the preservation of game in these areas, 
transient and limited occupancy will do little if 
any harm, for shooting is strictly prohibited, and 
there is a conservation lesson in the well demon¬ 
strated fact that wild life thrives in contact with 
a sparse human population that does not harass 
or destroy it. 
