And where is the gentleman sportsman who has come down to killing
  foolish and tame little doves for “sport?” Stop it at once, for the
  credit of the state.

  Enact a dollar resident license law and thus provide adequate funds
  for game protection.

  South Carolina bag limits are all 50 per cent too high; and they
  should be reduced.

It is strange to see one of the oldest of the states lagging in game protection, far behind such new states as New Mexico and Oklahoma; but South Carolina does lag.  It is time for her to consider her position, and reform.

SOUTH DAKOTA: 

  South Dakota should stop all spring shooting.

  Her game-bag limits are really no limits at all!  They should be
  reduced about 66 per cent without a moment’s unnecessary delay.

  The two year term of the State Warden is too short for effective
  work.  It should be extended to four years.

Unless South Dakota wishes to repeat the folly of such states as Indiana, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri and Ohio, she needs to be up and doing.  If her people want a gameless state, except for migratory waterfowl, all they need do is to slumber on, and they surely will have it.  Why wait until greedy sportsmen have killed the last game bird of the state before seriously taking the matter in hand?  In one act, all the shortcomings of the present laws can be corrected.

South Dakota needs no Bayne law, because she prohibits at all times the sale or exportation of all wild game.

TENNESSEE: 

In wild life protection, Tennessee has much to do.  She made her start late in life, and what she needs to do is to draft with care and enact with cheerful alacrity certain necessary amendments.

We notice that there are open seasons for blackbirds, robins, doves and squirrels!  It seems incredible; but it is true.

Behold the blackbird as a “game” bird, with a lawful open season from September 1 to January 1.  Consider its stately carriage, its rapid flight on the wing, its running and hiding powers when attacked.  As a test of marksmanship, as the real thing for the expert wing shot, is it not great?  Will not any self-respecting dog be proud to point or retrieve them?  And what flesh for the table!

Fancy an able-bodied sportsman going out in a fifty-dollar hunting suit, carrying a fifteen-dollar gun behind a seven-dollar dog, and returning with a glorious bag of twenty-five blackbirds!  Or robins!  Or doves!  Proud indeed, would we be to belong (which we don’t) to a club of “sportsmen” who go out shooting blackbirds, and robins, and foolish little doves, as “game!” “Game” indeed, are those birds,—­for little lads of seven who do not know better; but not for boys of twelve who have in their veins any inheritance of sporting blood. (I am proud of the fact that at twelve years of age,—­and ever so keen to “go hunting,”—­I knew without being told that squirrels and doves were not real “game” for real boys.)