388 
FOREST AND STREAM. 


For Forest and Stream. 
THE MOANING OF THE TIDE. 
aS 
) WAS abeauteous summer’s night, the moon was shining bright; 
ab was dozing in my Sleepy-Hollow chair. 
While dozing there I dreamed, and in my dream it seemed 
To me thatI was young again and fair. 
Tagain was a young man, a courting Betsy Ann, 
By the sea shore we were sitting side by side; 
And though our hearts with love were stirred, we uttered not a word, 
We were listening to the moaning of the tide. : 
But my dream was rudely broke by Betsy Ann, who spoke: 
“T wish that you’d untie that horrid cur!” 
Just listen to the tune, he’s moaning at the moon, 
And you've tied him up so he can hardly stir.”’ 
Then I bid my dream adieu, though part of it was true, 
For Betsy Ann was standing by my side; 
And though we were not by the shore, to hear the ocean’s roar, 
We were listening to the moaning of the tied. LUKE TRIPP. 
rr 
For Vorest and Stream. 
TO A CAGED BIRD. 

OOR bird! pine not because debarr’d 
From drinking of sweet freedom’s joys; 
Secure from danger, death and noise, 
Be philosophic—’tis not hard, 
Enough to eat, to drink and spare, 
So trim and neat thy cottage home; 
Why shoulds’t thou wish afar to roam, 
Where lurks the spoiler and the snare’ 
Just think how many of thy race 
To want, cold, sickness, fall a prey, 
Whilst thou canst ply the livelong day, 
In thy snug, cosy resting-place. 
In vain I plead! You shake your head 
And try the iron bars once more; 
You’d barter all your varied store 
Of sweets—have liberty instead. 
Birdie, we share an equal fate, 
I would that freedom’s joys were mine; 
Like thee I trouble and repine, 
And rail against my present state. 
And though enough to eat have we, 
Yetlife is but a dreary waste 
To us who crave in vain to taste 
The purer joys of liberty. 
Nrw ORLEANS, 216 Common street. 
—_ ___ 
THE FISHERMAN’S SUMMONS. 
Jas. RUNNEGAR. 
ee 
HE sea is calling, calling. 
Wife, is there a log to spare? 
Fling it down on the hearth and call them in, 
The boys and girls with their merry din, 
I amloth to leave you all just yet, 
In the light and the noise I might forget, 
The voiee in the evening air. 
The sea is calling, calling, 
Along the hollow shore. 
TU know each nook in the rocky strand, 
And the crimson weeds on the golden sand, 
And the worn old chff where the sea-pinks cling, 
And the winding caves where the echoes ring. 
I shall wake them never more.4 
Howit keeps calling, calling, 
It is never a night to sail. 
I saw the ‘‘sea-dog”’ over the height, 
As I strained through the haze my failing s 
And the cottage creaks and rocks, wellnigh 
As the old ‘‘Fox”’ didin the days gone by, 
In the moan of the rising gale. 
Yetit is calling, calling, 
It is hard on a soul I say 
To go fluttering outin the cold and the dark, 
Like the bird they tell us of, from the ark; 
While the foam flies thick on the bitter blast, 
And the angry waves roll fierce and fast, 
Where the black buoy marks the bay.j = 
Do you hear it calling, calling? 
And yet, Iam none go old.! 
At the herring fishery, but last year,} 
No boat beat mine for tackle and gear, 
And I steered the coble past the reef, 
When the broad sail shook like a withered leaf, 
And the rudder chafed my hold. 
Will it never stop calling, calling? 
Can’t you sing a song by the Hearth? 
A heartsome stave of a merry glass, 
Or a gallant fight, or a bonnie lass, 
Don’t you care for your grand-dad just so much, 
Come near then, give me a hand to touch, 
Still warm with the warmth of earth. 
You hear it calling, calling? 
Ask her why she sits and cries. 
She always did when the sea was up. 
She would fret, and never take bit on sup 
When I and the lads were out at night, 
And she saw the breakers cresting white 
Beneath the low black skies. 
But then, in its calling, calling, 
No summons to soul was sent. 
Now—well, fetch the parson, find the book, 
It is up on the shelf there, if you look. 
The sea has been friend, and fire, and bread; 
Put me, where it will tell of me, lying dead, 
How it called. and I rose and went.—AJl the Year Round. 

Perrarce.—La Nature tells us that in December last the 
mortal remains of Petrarch were exhumed for certain an- 
thropological purposes. The great Italian’s bones were 
found to be of an amber color, moist, and partly moul- 
dered. The cranium, of medium size, was well preserved, 
and the frontal bone fully developed. The clothing was 
reduced to) powder. From the size and length of the bones 
the divine poet must have been a man of middle height, 
and of robust constitution. Petrarch died in July, 1374, 
ulmost five hundred years ago, ; 
GUNS—A DIALOGUE. 
se Ee 
OME two hundred. and fifty years ago, a great deal of 
information of an amusing or instructive character, 
was conveyed to the reader by means of the dialogue. We 
are not too old to remember when those solemn and pre- 
ternatural little boys Sanford and Merton piayed a game at 
cross purposes, and when Julia asked hermamma real stun- 
ning posers about the moon, while Alfred put in, regarding 
the erratic motions of the stellar system, all of which }rob- 
lems, themamma, a lady of the Sommervillian type, answer- 
ed in the most off hand and deliberate manner. In fact it 
was the chit-chat of no doubt a strictly astronomical, but 
very tiresome family. 
Good old Isaac Walton loved the dialogue, and Piscator, 
Venator, Aucepsand Coridon talk to one another most sen- 
sibly, and their quaint dialogue is one of the great charms 
of the most admirable of books, the ‘‘Complete Angler.” 
Sir Humphrey Davy, not quite half a century ago, in some- 
what stiffer and more stately style, pits Halieus against 
Poites, and Physicus against Ornither, and we have given 
to usin this way all that the great savant knew about 
Salmonia, interpreted by his various dramutis persone. 
This dialogue method, perhaps a trifle antiquated, recall- 
ing the classic Greek chorus, has of course gone out of 
fashion, but it is by no means improbable that it may not 
be in vogue again some day. Without being, however, 
desirous of reproducing this method of instruction, having 
simply heard our friends, Aries Virga and Papilla, talking 
about guns and breech-loaders yesterday, we transcribe 
their conversation without any comment of our own.* 
ARIES VIRGA AND PAPILLA—IN A CLUB ROOM.6 
Aries.—It is perfectly useless, you never can convince 
me that a gun fitted for a gentleman’s use, which is safe or 
reliable and with any kind of penetration or precision can 
be produced by the gross. 
Papilla.—Still it is within the bounds of reason. Egg or 
Manton or Beckwith or others who lived seventy-five years 
ago, who made guns for our fathers, certainly never 
thought so. But neither the inventive nor the mechanical 
power have remained at a stand still during this half cen- 
tury. 
Aries.—In the first place the material in the guns those 
master artificers made up fifty years ago were better than 
what we use to-day. In old times they picked up all the 
horse-shoe nails to make the barrels with. 
Papilla.—Now let usstopright there. Itis quite probable 
that could we investigate it by any exact methods of com- 
parison, we could show that gun-powder fifty years ago, 
was by no means as well made, nor as strong, nor as effec- 
tive as itis to-day, and as for that, Ithink it has been demon- 
strated, that with a lighter quality of metal, our guns can 
stand quite as much rending or bursting power as the old 
fowling pieces. We have had forcedly to make better bar- 
rels, for stronger and more powerful powder. As to our 
capability of selecting soft homogeneous iron for gun bar- 
rels if we wanted to use it, which we do not, instead of our 
having to pick it up by the single horse shoe pail we could 
buy charcoal iron by the bloom, or ship-load, and have in a 
single bar all those excellent qualities which were only at- 
tainable seventy-five years ago, by collecting the material 
bit by bit. The fact isif you wish to make iron barrels, 
you might select iron from a hundred different grades. 
Aries.—That is all book learning, the result, my friend 
Papilla, of your having attended some bothering course of 
scientific lectures. Well then, if they do use steel for 
barrels to-day it is because the iron was too bad. They 
cannot finish guns in this country as well as they do in | 
England. No American guns have any finish to them. 
They may be all right, but I do not want to carry a gun 
which is not perfection—even if guns can be made by the 
gross. 
Papilla.—Which shows your very excellent taste—, ‘a 
thing of beauty is a—.” 
Aries.—Allow me. It is not looks alone. The gun 
must shoot well, and all that kind of thing, but at the same 
time, I want to pass my nail all over my gun, and if it 
catches any where, if it is not as polished and smooth as a 
statue, why that condemns the gun in my sight, and for my 
use. 
Papilla.—I appreciate in every way your good judgment. 
Though you may be an exquisite in respect to your dress— 
your dogs, and horses and your arms, I must confess that 
you are a thorough master of the sportman’s art, and there 
are not many men in the field, better shots than my friend 
Aries Virga. I must remark, however, that you are fortu- 
nate in having at yourcommand means without limit, If 
I had your wealth, there is no doubt but that. I would only 
be satisfied with a gun which would be a master piece of 
excellence and elegance. But yor must remember that 
where you can spend a hundred dollars, Ican only spend 
five. While yqui rational amusements cost you a thou- 
sand or so a year, I am forced to restrict mine to less than 
ahundred. Now in the United States, I do not suppose I 
am the singular exception in this respect; shooting here is 
essentially democratic and universal; I have no head game 
keeper, nor under keeper to see to my arms, and attend to 
an arsenal of guns. What is wanted here in the United 
States are serviceable plain and cheap breech-loading guns, 
without any great elegance about them. Of course I expect 
to shock you by the comparison, now, a washing ma- 
chine—.” . : 
Aries.—A washing machine! Why that is arch treason. 
What has such a thing as a washing machine to do witha 
gun? 

Papilla.—I was only going to state that other countries, 
and other people, make other wants, and that just as cheap 
and good guns are required in the United States, anda 
demand has set in for them, exactly for the same reasons 
washing machines were invented and sold. It is only a 
question of supply and demand. 
Aries —Of course, I was waiting for that. You always 
must lugin political economy into subjects under discussion. 
But it is nonsense in talking of sportsmen to bring in wash- 
erwomen. There is an art, a mystery about the manufac- 
ture of a fowling piece, especially of a breech-loader. Why, 
even the names you see on English guns of the great makers, 
these people themselves do not know how a gun is made. 
It is the foreman of the shop who keeps the secrets. It 
comes down from father to son. Very few can fathom it. 
I am afraid friend Aries you are rushing in where angels 
fear to tread 
Papilla.—Bless me, Aries! Ido declare you are fully 
imbued with that nonsensical idea, and speak of the mystery 
of the gun maker, in a whisper. I do acknowledge to 
make a good gun, for a modern breech loader, is much 
more difficult to construct properly than the muzzle-loader, 
requires no end of mechanical instinct, and inventive 
power, though men’s hands and brains have adyanced in 
cunning with the work required of them. Since you ob 
ject to my washing machines, have you any disinclination 
to compare a gun with a watch? 
Aries.—It is according to what you want to prove. 
on, however. 
Papilla.—Is a gun a more delicate piece of mechanism 
than a watch? 
sAries.— Why no! 
Papilla.— Well then, if we can make good serviceable and 
cheap watches in the United States, not Frodshams, or 
Dents, or Jurgensens, precisely, but watches which an- 
swer every possible service, why can not we do the same 
thing for guns? 
Aries.—But I would rather still have a Dent watth. 
Papilla.—And so would I, but if I and you and fifty 
others men wanted to pay seventy-five guineas for an 
American watch, I have no doubt but that the watch- 
makers in the United States could produce watches 
for those figures, precisely as good as the the best Eng- 
lish watches, and even as to style a trifle more elegant. 
In this 19th century, there can be no monopoly of manu- 
factures. 
Aries.—Well, is it just because people generally will not 
pay as much for an American gun as for an English gun, 
that English guns are better? 
Papilla.—Not exactly, but that may have something to 
do with it. But my friend Aries, as I consider your judg- 
ment admirable as to guns, do tell me what you think is a 
good breech-loading gun? 
Aries.—Well, what I fancy is wanted in a breech-loader, 
isa gun that will not rattle, and will withstand any amount 
of wear and tear, in or out of water, and which is safe. 
An arm nut to be taken out on the back porch, to shoot a 
passing wood-cock with, but one which can be carried into 
the forests, or in the blinds or in the boat, and can be 
knocked about camp, and will bear all kinds of hard usage 
for months. 
Papilla.— Will your fine guns do that? 
Aries.—Certainly they will, and stand the work better 
than coarser made arms. I may differ from others, but ] 
want a breech-loader, a gun where the barrels are fastencd 
to the stock of the piece. 
Papilla.—No tip ups? 
Aries'—No, I dont want hinge pins, nor grips, nor eccen- 
trics, nor fancy breech actions of any kind. 
Papilla.—Are you describing a Snyder Allen then? 
Aries.—Not exactly, mine is an ideal gun, for in the Sny- 
der Allen the pin in the side box breech becomes’ loosened 
sometimes when you are not aware of it. 
Papilla.—You then agree with the ordnance gfticers, 
who have all of them in the Jast five years, given the cold 
shoulder to all tip up or hinged arms? 
Aries.—Lefaucheux made the first hinged breech-loading 
gun, and he has been I think too servilely copied Ord- 
nance officers are right about the arms adapted to their 
use, and I can’t for the life of me see where the distinction 
can be drawn in regard to the mechanical principles be- 
tween what makes an efficient military and a sporting-arm. 
The same system ought to work in both—because—.” 
Papilla.—Bravo! now thatis just where Ihave you, J 
thought your good judgment in regard to arms would have 
brought you to the subject of military arms. Now TI put it 
to you, asa sane reasoning man, in the manufacture of 
good serviceable guns fer our soldiers in the United States, 
with the Springfields, the Remingtons, the Sharpes, the 
Ward Burton’s, the Maynards, the Berdans, the whole rest 
of them, have we not arrived at very great perfection? 
These guns are all made like buttons, not by the gross, but 
by the thousands, one like another, like watches, or wash- 
ing machines. You must acknowledge that. Well then 
what reason is there, why some of these manufacturers can- 
not produce honest, strong, safe and cheap breech-loading 
guns by the same wonderful mechanical resources which 
they. have invented for turning out military weapons of the 
utmost precision? 
Go 
Aries.—You can make an army gun in quantity, I sup. 
pose, but, nevertheless I must insist that fine guns are like 
Cremona Violins, and are not turned out like buttons. 
Papilla.—Most of the world is satisfied, and must remain 
so, with commoner musical instruments; it is only the grand 
masters, like Aries Virga, who can pay for their Cremona's, 

