The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1885-11-19
A THEORETICAL FISHERMAN.
Some Fish Stories That Bear the Stamp {
Truth,

oOLu6 FISH otOrles IudG Bear the stamp OF
Truth.
When the average American mind
lightly turns to thoughts of lchthyolo-
gy, writes a correspondent to The New
York Commercial Advertiser, it seems
to expand with the size of the word.
1t was a fortunate thing for the men,
DRY OF the immortal Washington that
he never went fishing nor told fish
story. Ex-Vice President Wheeler did,
and we all know what happened.
President Cleveland followed his ex-
ample, and it is impossible to tell what
may come of his action in the dim,
vast, and, so to speak, chaotic future.
Fishermen appear to take to m%endacity
as readily as a duck, according to pop
ular tradition, takes to water. AS the
ancient eel, who had been skinned
ten times, remarked, sit is time that
this sort of thing should be stopped"
1t has become wearisome to listen to
the stories of great catches" from
men who have caught their fish from
market-stands or from the convenient
vokel. The truth has been told before,
and the heavens have not yet fallen.
Perhaps these falsehoods about fish
have kept them up. 1t may be that g
few truths about fishing may bring
the downfall of rain of which farmers
in Arizona stand in need when there
has been no rain since the beginning
of the year.
l am by nature an enthusiastic fish
erman. l a with my own hands
make a brown hackle, a rod ibis, or a
coachman, can fasten a shell and cast
a fly. Theoretically L am all right.
Practically 1 am all wrong. To be a
theoretical fisherman is to entail upon
yourself much misery. You may be-
come a fish commissioner. You are
certain to never catch any fish. My
misguided theoretical knowledge in
duced me to invest extensively in fish
ing-tackle and purchase rods from ev-
cry villianous charlatan who had one
for sale. 1t also brought me in
vitations without number to fishing
parties. Let MT deliver my fish tales.
One of the liveliest sports ON Long
island sound is snapper-fishing. The
snapper is a species of young blue-fish.
You fish with q rod and generally have
four hooks on your line. You use line
bait and you ''skitter," that is, draw
your bait rapidly across the surface
of the water. If you are lucky, you
are tolerably certain to pull in a snap
per on each hook. If you are a theo-
retical fisherman, you pull in your
line bait. Well, some time ago a near
and dear friend invited me to visit
him at his residence at Rye, Westches-
ter county, and 60 snapper-tishing.
The carriage met me at the depot and
bore me to the hospitable home of one
of the most eminent ~jurists New York
has ever known. l knew the good
cheer that awaited me and the hearty
welcome l was to receive, and was
happy. That night we talked fish,
law, and literature. The next day we
were to fish. The next day it rained.
Perhaps that does not fully express it;
for, as a plain and un~adulterated mat
ter of fact it poured. Naturally, my
host suggested a postponement of the
fishing expedition, but as a theoretical
fisherman, l scoffed at the idea. We
sat in a miserable, wet boat for five
hours with asteady rain pouring down
on us, running in little rivlets down
our backs. and percolating into the
interior of our boots. During that
time Adolphus, my untheoretical
friend caught sixty-three snappers,
and 1 caught a half ounce founder
and a cold. I have not been snapper
fishing since.
My next notable fishing experience
was also on Long Island sound, Larch
mont, a short distance from the Larch-
mont Yacht clubhouse. My friend
Jaybird wrote me that the blackfsh
we're biting splendidly. L went to
Lachmont. Sunny smiles and kindly
words greeted me. The trees swayed
and caressed each other in the lazy
August air: there we're the merry
shouts of bathers; now and then the
of an Grant crow, and, within
the household, the melody of a voice
that sang the song of sentiment with
the heart of a se~ntimentalist. The
night sped rapidly. and the inevitable
morning came. There were four of US
in the boat, Jaybird, his blue-eyed
wife, a case of claret, and myself.
when you fish for blackfsh you use a
with CLANS for bait. You
fish near the bottom. and as the black
fish is a sluggish bitter it is necessary
that you should feel the slightest taut-
ness of the line or your game will
gorge the bait. All this l knew theo-
retically, but l had not counted upon
the begaul. This interesting creature
is a sort of young porgie, and has a
fondness for bait that does not belong