In the past 24 years more than 200 million Pittman-Robertson dollars have been invested in the nation's wildlife. More than 2� million acres of land have been acquired by 47 states for the improvement of habitat and the development of public hunting grounds. More than 457,000 game birds and 84,000 game animals have been transplanted to new or more suitable ranges. Scientific research has revolutionized game management programs, substantially reduced diseases and virtually eliminated parasites like the screwworm, which a few years ago almost wiped out southern deer herds.
Most significant of all, the U.S. hunter himself, through the act, has personally engineered the renaissance of American game. Because of his support our vanishing herds not only have been rescued but have achieved health and population levels unequaled in the last century. With the exception of waterfowl shooting, which has its own special problems, the outlook today is the brightest in recent history. Hunting has become one sport in which no one need say, "Wait till next year." Next year is here.
MARY ELLEN, STAY HOME
The cheery irresponsibility of women at racetracks is well known. They do the oddest things and still somehow manage to make getaway money. We have now a bad case of the wet shoulder from a father, a racetrack veteran and great student of form, based on the experiences of his 25-year-old daughter, Mary Ellen, and her girl friend on their first unaccompanied and unsupervised visit to the races.
"On Monday we went to Rockingham Park to the horse races," Mary Ellen wrote home to Daddy, "and had a whale of a time. We were there for six races and only lost 90� apiece." The girls were betting $2 on each race, putting up $1 apiece. Somehow they managed to hold three winning tickets in the six races and come up with a $1.80 loss. A clue to their system is contained in this sentence: "In the third and fourth races we picked the horse most likely to win and then bet on him to show and each time our horse came in first." Despite the implications of this proud confession, Mary Ellen went on to report that "we are now professionals and can read the tote board and everything."
"Great grouse!" said her father, who talks like that when excited. "They pick three out of six and lose 90� each. Never send youth to the window."