Sportsman's Show Offers Sterling Amusement For Discriminating Taste of Virile Bostonians

The most consistently dull piece of entertainment in the city of Boston at the present time is the Sportsman's show at the Mechanics Building. Ostensibly an exhibit of sporting goods and things pertaining to sport in general, it is in reality a third-rate country fair without the horse races and the fresh air.

A shallow pond stocked with three dozen large trout is the first big feature that greets the eye of the spectator. A charming debutante of the Boston variety vainly trying to manipulate a fly red is the next big feature. After the attempt at fishing has gone on for half an hour with no success, the observer passes on further into the show. Here a varied array of tricycles, skis, nondescript sailboats, equipped with outboard motors, and 22 rifles tend to strengthen the impression of continuity.

But now the utilitarian part of the show is passed, and the straight entertishment begins. Wedged in between an archery range and an air-rifle concession are a nervous elk and a depressed buffalo, designed to give the public a neat cross section of the fauna west of Natick and north of Cambridge.

In the next room toy airplanes are being demonstrated. What could be better for that fishing trip in Nova Scotia than a nice toy gilder? Here is another rifle range, bordered by sleeping wild beasts. Beyond, two very discouraged brown bears are trying to stare down their gaping audience.

Passing a large pool where log rollers do their stuff five times a day, the spectator comes to the teepee of Chief Walks-Like-An-Elephant, who is hitting his little portable tom-tom with alarming vehemence. Coming to the last of the wild animal exhibits, a stirring collection of rare rabbits and guines pigs, the observer will-hear someone say, "Oh! Look at the bob-tailed rate!"

Popcorn, tonic, and frozen custard offer themselves to these in need of refreshment. By all means go. Nothing could be loss fun. And be sure to take home a Tarzan Bow Set (only $1.50) for the kiddies.