From the Evening Star, August 21, 1914. By Philander Johnson.
“I fear I’m not a sportsman true,” said Nimrod McIntyre.
“Some things that sportsmen have to do I cannot quite admire.
Amid the joy with which we hail a triumph great or small,
I can’t help feeling sorry for the creature that must fall.
“I get the thrill which comes when in the water clear I look
And see the fish that battles to gain freedom from the hook.
And yet it’s not the joy unqualified that I would wish,
For way down in my heart my sympathies are with the fish.
“When, with my trusty gun in hand, to slay a bird I fail,
I don’t feel blue at all. My sympathies are with the quail.
And yet I fish and shoot; but with no genuine desire
To kill a thing! Why is this so?” said Nimrod McIntyre.
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