, 1888-11-20
MICKEY FINN,S-BASS

black as coal an as big as your thumb,
an a humble bee-shure l pulled out his
singer with tn weezers'-
"Ah, hoult on, sonny. Fax We hav'
enough of bait t catch all tn fish in
Jacobs Valley. Bring all them things in
here till we nave a look at thin"
When Mickey had brought all his bottles
and boxes into the kitchen and placed
them on the table they presented quite a
formidable array. The crickets were con-
fined in a cigar box, and when ne lifted
the lid to permit his father to nave a
glance at the bait, the crickets jumped
out upon the floor, and the tame crow
never before lac exhibited. The worms
proved to be of the night walker order.
Mickey had caught them by the aid of a
lantern as they crawled through the grass
of Stumpy field the previous evening.
The bumblebee escaped when little Mike
took the cork out of the bottle, and flew
away to the clover field near by. Said
Mr.. Finn:
EYE may as well pull up one O. thin
bane poles in the yard an fasten yer line
to it, an so yell be ready for tn mornin',
fur We'll be startin' again tn tonne tn
sun is up"
Early mex morning, while yet the grass
was diamonded with dew, little dix and
his father started up the Old Point road
Mickey was heavily freighted. He car.
ried on one arm a large market basket.
which contained two cigar boxes and vari-
GUS bottles, containing bait, both solid
and liquid. The latter was for his fathers
exclusive use. One of the cigar boxes
was filed with a varied assortment of fish
ing tackle, including a number of rusty
screws for sinkers, Goldfish hooks stuck
into a cork, an old chalk line, five soda
water bottle corks and a number of other
articles which tho how in hig irpor,,ao
deemed necessary for fishing in a country
brook.
After leaving the Old Point road the
way led down a little lane where a brown
thrush sang a solo in q tree and a golden
oriole fitted across the lane and uttered
liquid notes. Under the tree where the
oriole sang in a field filed with cocks of
new mown hay there dubbed a little
spring. TIL water came up through the
sand at the bottom of the spring and
shifted it like drops of quicksilver. Ly-
ing down at full lengththe fishermen put
their mouths down TO this living spring
and drank deep drsughts. Twas natures
own champagne. There was life in the
water. The sun had kissed the spring
and the sweet scent of hay stole into it,
Somehow Mickey didn't appreciate the
water as much as his father did. He said
he would rather AVE a glass of root beer
any time.
When the brook was reached the sun
had gained its meridian, but its rays
could not penetrate the dense foliage on
the banks overlooking the water. In
these cool pools swan sunfish with golden
scales, n brook bass which resembled
bars of FURNISHED silver as they flashed
their cleaning sides in the sunlight.
Mickey was so eager to drop the line in
the water that he could scarcely put a
worm on his hook. At last the tackle
was all ready, when a six inch trout, look
ing almost translucent in the clear water,
came swimming up the stream. 1t stop
ped almost opposite where the boy stood,
lazily tanning it's dorsal and ventral fins.
Said Mickey, with parted lips and bated
breath:
Keep still, dad! Wait till you see me
haul i'm outr'
Slowly the nook sank beneath the sur
face, and the worm in all it's squirrning,
juicy plumpness rested on the sand be
fore the nose of the trout. The two held
their breath and awaited developments.
The trout slowly backed away from the
worm for a distance of one foot, then it
moved forward and smelt of the bait.
There was a moment of intense suspense,
and Mickey's pole shook as though it had
the palsy. Then the trout darted like a
beam of sunshine into a shadowy place
beneath the bank. Mickey's disappoint.
ment was great. but he choked it down,
and said with almost a sob in his voice:
Dad, l almost had 'iml"
YES" replied his father; '"but you
didn't have any salt on his tail that time,
me lad; thry agin."
Then Mickey's father lay down upon the
grass on the banks of the stream and went
TO sleep. He had just entered the Dor
ders of dreamland when he was awakened
by a shout which echoed like a fire alarm
n the valley. He sat up and listened.
Again he heard the shout and distin-
guished these words:
dad, l got a bitel'
Mickey's father plunged into the under
brush and forced his way through the
overhanging branches of the trees to the
place where the sound came from. He
nao not gone twenty feet, however, be-
lore a cry SO jubilant, SO full of triumph,
so instinct with the passion of possession,
came to him that he knew at once some
thlng important had occurred. Looking
Ihrougn the aisles of the wood he saw
Mickey lying upon the trunk of a big tree
which projected out over the stream, In
order to maintain his position he had to
hang on with one and and with the other
he held his rod. Again he cried in api-
tated tones:
"Golly, dad, my dobber's under"
Pull up, sonnyl Pull upI"
Mickey did pull up, and dangling from
the end of his line was a brook bass about
five inches long. But Mickey was in such
a position that he could not land his fish.
And SO he Rugged the tree and palpitated
and perspired and managed to lift the fish
just so far out of the water that it's tail
touched the swirling current.
The picture was such a pleasing one to
Mickey's father that he stood hidden by
the foliage and watched his boys dilemma
for at least two minutes before he went
to the rescue. Then he slid down the
bank and held Mickey so that he could
land the fish himself, which was accom-
plisbed in a very careful manner for fear
that it might escape. But when it lay
upon the grass and gasped for it's native