314 
FOREST AND STREAM 
May, 1918 
Camp 
Supper 
/ I 'ENTpitched. Bacon sizzling 
in the pan, coffee on the fire 
and the opened jar of Beech-Nut 
Peanut Butter ready for the bread. 
No waiting! 
On the trail or stream, pack 
plentifully with Beech-Nut Peanut 
Butter. Its high food value and 
irresistible flavor ring the bell for 
satisfaction whenever the outdoor 
hunger gets you. Yields three 
times as many calories as steak, 
four times as many as eggs. 
For your next trip lay in a sup¬ 
ply of Beech-Nut Peanut Butter 
from your dealer or outfitter. 
Beech-Nut 
Peanut Butter 
Beech-Nut PackingCompany 
CANAJOHARIE, NEW YORK 
“Foods of Finest Flavor ” 
Before you buy your next 
fishing tackle, ask your 
dealer to show you a Divine 
Rod or send for our 1918 
Catalog. 
For nearly half a century, 
the word "Divine" on a 
rod has stood for the best 
in the art of rod making. 
The Sportsman who knows 
or cares for trustworthy fish¬ 
ing tackle, will appreciate 
the careful workmanship in 
"Divine" Rods. 
There's a "Divine" Rod 
for every kind of fishing; a 
lod that will faithfully serve 
and satisfy the most exacting 
sportsman; Rods from 2% 
ounces up. Trout. Bass, and 
Dry Fly Rods of 6 and 8 
strip and in a variety of 
choice woods — also Silk 
Wrapped Rods. 
Rods Made to Special 
Order 
1918 Catalog on Request 
The Fred D. Divine 
Company 
520 Roberts St., Utica, N. Y 
FISH, HUNT 
and SLEEP 
in Comfort 
The Ha-Ha Head Protector 
Will Absolutely Protect You 
Made of BRASS WIRE GAUZE, 
Defies MOSQUITOS & ALL in¬ 
sects. Fits ANY hat, Weighs 
THREE ounces, Go in VEST 
pocket. 
Patented in U. S. A. & Canada. 
A well made, serviceable article for 
the WISE man. 
If your Dealer does not handle 
them $2.oo will bring you one any¬ 
where in the U. S. prepaid. 
Write us today, delays are danger¬ 
ous. 
THE RHOADES MFG. CO., Inc. 
SAULT STE MARIE, MICH. 
//leCEEBYNITE 
a twenty four- 
h our COMPASS 
$3®? at Dealers 
or Remit 
Direct if not obtainable 
locally 
Leedawl Compass,$l?5 
Magnapole .. $lt? 
Litenite ; $2?J 
Aurapole $3°J 
THE FLY ROD WIGGLER 
Here is the 
greatest fish 
getter ever 
used on a fly 
rod. A reg- 
u 1 a r little 
wiggler that 
acts and looks like a crippless minnow and handles 
easily on any ordinary fly rod. Large and small 
moutli hass, pickerel and large trout all go crazy 
over it and it gets the big ones. Two sizes, 2% and 
1 % in. long. Exquisitely finished in Silver Shiner, 
Golden Shiner. Red Side Minnow, Yellow Perch, 
Red head, all White, Yellow, Red. Price, 50c. each. 
Send stamp for Fishing Tackle Catalog. 
W. J. Jamison Co., Dept. S, 736 So. California Ave. 
Chicago, Ill. 
ADRIFT ON SABLE 
LAKE 
(continued from page 271) 
you see anything the matter?” snarls Bud 
lookin’ me right in the eye. “Nothin’ par¬ 
ticular,” says I, “but I was jest wonderin’ 
why you don’t start the engine.” 
B UD gave a snort and again bent over 
the wheel. After spinning it until he 
was black in the face he blew the 
perspiration off the end of his nose and sat 
down weakly in the stern seat. “Say,” says 
I very inquisitive, “are you doin’ that jest 
for exercise?” “No I ain’t!” hisses Bud. 
“Well,” says I, “wot’s the use of lyin’ here 
becalmed? Let’s get to fishin’. Why don’t 
3'ou start the engine?” “I canft start 
it, that’s why!” grouches Bud. “Absurd 
and ridiculous,” says I rubbing it in; “you 
don’t mean to tell me that the best little old 
gas engine on the lake wont start when 
you want it to—an engine that will run 
all day long without missin’ a kick. Bud¬ 
dy, this is one of your jokes.” “Aw, go 
to-!” (last word censored) hisses Bud. 
Then he tinkered with a valve here, turned 
a petcock there and twisted a dingbat over 
yonder. He examined the wiring, tested 
the battery and adjusted the carbureter 
while I sat there bragging on “Lizzie.” 
This done he again bent over and heaved 
and grunted and perspired and swore, but 
it was no use—that engine never uttered a 
pop—she didn’t even clear her throat—she 
was as dead as a door-nail. 
“Bet I can fix that engine,” says I. “Yes 
you can,” jeers Bud. “Have you got a 
monkey-wrench ?” asks I. “And what 
would you do with a monkey-wrench?” 
sneers Bud. “See them bolts,” says I, 
“which hold the engine to the bottom of 
the boat?” “Yes,” says Bud beginning to 
show some interest. “Well,” says I, “I’d 
unscrew them bolts and -” “Yes, yes, 
go on!” butts in Bud eagerly. “I’d un¬ 
screw them bolts,” I reiterates, “then I’d 
pull up that engine and throw it into-the 
lake!” It was a sin the way Bud swore 
when I made that suggestion. 
We went to bed with our hats and boots 
on to shiver miserably until morning 
There we were in midlake over two 
miles from camp and as helpless as a fish 
out of wafer. Sable was as flat as a pan¬ 
cake. The sun was bright and its warmth 
was welcome. We took turns tryin’ to 
start the balky thing. I whirled that wheel 
until my back was broken in two places 
and there were blisters on my hands as 
big as quarters, but what was the use! 
Thus the afternoon passed. 
About five o’clock a bit of a breeze came 
across the lake from the south. “Good,” 
says I, “this will take us ashore.” “Yeh,” 
says Bud gloomily taking his hearings, 
“ashore on Spider Island.” He was right 
