Se aa Care 
5. = Pe y 
rs Vat) | a . Pagosa 
tr hs) 
: oo 
ry 

Making Leather Buttons 
OME time when you have been 
disgusted with looking for an im- 
portant button that should be 
“where it ain’t,’ try the following, 
upon return from your trip, where a 
piece of barb-wire has taken the place 
of the departed button. 
Buy a set of shotgun wad cutters, 
i. e., a 10, 12, 16, 20, and if you wish 
a 210, you will have to 
have the latter made by 
the party “under the 
spreading chestnut tree.” 
Steal all the scraps of sole 
leather that you can find, 
and you are ready for 
business. 
Pick out the size of but- 
ton you want, take a piece 
of wood, put leather on 
wood, cutter on leather, 
wallop said cutter, and 
you have a completed but- 
ton, except for the eyes 
which are punched or 
bored any old way, that 
set with waxed thread, 
will stick “real fillin’.” 
If you want a fancy job, 
round the edges with sand 
paper and waterproof the 
button. 
Harry IRWIN. 

A New Parking-place 
for Fish-hooks 
ISH-HOOKS! Who 
F hasn’t had a feeling 
of positive aversion 
for the tiny, treacherous 
little things when they 
catch into khaki and stick 
like original sin? 
We had a time of it, for several sea- 
sons with fish-hooks, for six members 
of our family turned into fishermen 
at the same time. It seemed to be 
catching like measles, and in conse- 
quence, fish-hooks were the bane of 
my existence. They did rather serious 
damage on several occasions to both 
flesh and raiment, and the nice leather 
cases for hooks from the city stores 
were not used at all. 
First, they were not considered quite 
sportsmanlike in our wilds, and sec- 
ondly, they were mostly spoiled by 
frequent duckings in rushing trout 
streams. 
So after suffering patiently, and 
putting up with the bother of fish- 
hooks about camp, on the floor, in the 
beds, tucked away in magazines and 
even in the teapot, I hailed with joy 
Shot Gun Wad Cutters ee leather Beittons 

Cros3 
Wad 
‘i BH Butfon 

‘Butts 
with Eidq ae Rotarcedt 
by Sand pa rat 
the discovery that came to our camp 
in the form of a permanent remedy 
one late summer afternoon. 
Bobby, age six, was playing Indian 
under the rocks, and as costumes for 
make-believe are scarce in a mountain 
wilderness, and his sister had to be 
secalped, he had tied the’ wire door- 
spring to her hat. From that inno- 
cent beginning came peace to all our 
fishermen! 
Sister’s hat happened to be dad's 



ection 
Cutter y) 
hat, also on that lucky day, and the 
long coiled spring was left wound 
about the crown. 
Early next morning dad left for up- 
stream, and wore the fateful hat. 
When he returned that evening, he 
had a big haul, which made rejoicings 
in camp, of course; but best of all, he 
showed us his original new kit for fish- 
hooks. 
There placed neatly in 
the coils of that old door- 
spring were his hooks, flies 
and all, each nicely sepa- 
rated from its neighbor, 
and ready for instant use! 
We ordered six coiled 
door-springs that very day 
from the city, to wind 
about the hats of all fisher- 
men in our camp, and by 
the end of that week, 
dozens of springs were be- 
ing ordered by the entire 
community. 
In fact, to be seen with- 
out a coil upon your hat, 
filled with shiny hooks, 
and a gay fly or two, was 
to be hopelessly old-fash- 
1oned out there under the 
pines in the land of trout. 
So I send this discovery 
to Nessmuk hoping it may 
serve to solve another of 
the many problems that 
life always brings along at 
the heels of camping out. 
If we all send in enough 
hints on how to manage, 
camping out may become 
so civilized that it won’t 
be much fun, but that day 
is still far away. 
This hat ornament can’t be called 
civilized, anyway, and the best part 
of all is the fact that when not being 
used for hooks, it can return to its old 
job of slamming the screen-door, or 
even be a scalp again, since sister is 
still wearing her hair bobbed. 
St Deal © Ae 
Pasadena, 
California. 
91 
