The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-05-19
oLD-FAsHIoNED FISHING,
BY NJ. QUAD

i ing. When a man goes a-flshing its all solid business and no TO- nance. He makes his calculations days ahead, figures on just how many minutes he can spare, and every nibble is reckoned as so much money. He is always out of pocket, and always comes home mad, not to try 1t again for whole year. With boy 1t Is adventure and romance. He has noth- ing to lose and everything to gain. He has all the time there is, and if he doesn't catch all the fish in Roaring river 1t is not his fault.
 l can remember all about 1t. In those way back days a real fish, hook was personal property, something to carry to school tied up in rag and exhibited only to the large boys old enough to appreciate 1t. At home it was hidden away under the bureau, and its presence was kept a secret. Most any sort of string would do for fish-line, and the old hunter who once gave me two bullets for sinkers is remembered with deepest gratitude to this day. When hook and line and sinkers were wound upon maple chip and tucked away to wait for the fishing season, it was a red letter day. would have taken & dozen of the worst lickings boy could receive rather than give up the treasure, and, had a stranger come along and offered to trade me horse for the outfit, should have promptly refused his offer.
 When we went to fish In creek which was as much as two feet deep in spots, and which boy could hardly jump across in places, 1t was a mighty river to me, beside which the discoveries of Hendrick Hudson and De Soto were bantam chickens. There were whales in there, and our only fear was that one of them would nab our angleworm and break the hook. There were sharks which might seize us if we waded over rifle ankle deep, and we had heard of the devil fish which turks under the food wood waiting for barefooted boy to come along with his dinner. True, we never encountered any of these mon- sters of the deep, and that was the reason why we got safely back home, and why mother heaved great sigh of satisfaction and said:
 "So you are homel Well, never, never expected to see you again!"
 A boys way of fishing Is the best way ever invented. They bring out their fancy rods, reels, flies and patent hooks, but the boy who sticks to the homemade fish pole, the old fash toned hook and the twine fish line rubbed down with beeswax isn't going to be left very far behind.
 The first we used to pull out yuml Nowadays those you don't catch are the largest. A quarter of 8 century ago things were different. Of course, we had some big bites-awful bites-regular old monsters, but we didn't lie about the size of the biters, We never put one down at over a hundred pounds, though we could have doubled the weight and found ready believers. In those days mo- body ever fished without splitting on his bait. If he wanted to catch an awful big fish he spit twice. There were times when splitting on the bait didn't bring bite, but no boy ever got discouraged over that. He hadn't given just the right pucker to his mouth, or his hook didn't hang right. or the sky was too bright or too cloudy.
 In these degenerate days a man will sit on wharf or log and bob and jaw, and bob some more and growl. and haul up his line and blast every body's eyes, becouse he hasn't caught pickerel eighty five feet long. The old-fashioned boy would tramp three miles up and down the stream, and never a word of complaint over the absent nibbles. Ii he got a dozen horned -dace, as long as a mans finger, it was a triumph to last for three months. Just think of patent bob ber-a self-acting one, at that-apd compare it with the cork we used to steal from the molasses jugl And what are these patent sinkers com- pared to a couple of eight-pen nails or an old door key which sunk our hooks! They are doing their best to reduce 1t to business, and to de- stroy all the romance and anticipation, and for one don't like 1t a bit. In the way back time fishing excursion Was set down for a month ahead, and 1t depended on how we'll we got along with the potatoes and corn. We got our outfit ready fortnight ahead of time. We hunted out the best spots for fish worms, planned every detail over and over again, and dreamed of creeks and fish and fish, hooks right along every night. The days seemed never-ending, but when we could say "To- morrow!" we dug bait enough to catch every thing in Lake Erie. gave