The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1893-06-22
DAvY JONES' TWlNE FACTORY.
1t Frightened the Old Fisherman on Whom
the BOYS Played Trick.

There is a queer old party who has
been fishing on 7 wharf lately. He
wears an old slouch hat, and his an
cient habiliments are weighted down
with thick fade and real estate, with
perhaps little personal property
thrown in. He has very rosy cheeks
and nose, which are perhaps not wholly
due to the salubrious breezes and gen.
eral healthfulness of Fish wharf. He
is evidently one of those kind of indi-
viduals that live to fish and not fish to
live.
The other afternoon some of the
'boys'' thought they would play lit
tie joke on him. They waited until he
had wound the end of his line around
the top of pile and started down the
wharf to get his hourly booze
They took a big ball of twine, which
they had soaked thoroughly in bucket
of dirty water to give it an old appear
ance, and attached heavy sinker to it
from the center so as not to hinder its
unwinding. Then they went over to
the corner of the wharf and pulled up
the old fisherman's line, and taking off
the hooks, tied the end of the ball of
twine neatly on to the end of the fish
line and threw it overheard.
In few minutes the worthy fisher
man came meandering back and sat
down on the string piece and took his
line again. 1t was some time before he
got sufficiently impatient in waiting
for bite to pull in his line. But he
did presently, and began to haul in. He
pulled in yard after yard and, his hooks
not appearing, he paused and looked
around him. No one was apparently
watching him. Several urchins were
fishing near him and from the stern of
schooner just at his right, but they
seemed intent upon their lines. The
stupid countenance of the ancient indi-
vidual had puzzled expression as once
more he grasped his line and began to
haul in vigorously. The line came in
just as vigorously as he hauled on it,
and when he had landed half mile of
string or SO he stopped suddenly again,
and his puzzled expression changed to
one of wonder, if not alarm.
"Boyr' he called thickly to the lad
that was nearest to him, ''do you see
me?'
"Of course | sees yer-I amt blind. :"
I'm here on the wharf, fishin' amt
I?''
"Wot yer givin' us-course you is"
Il amt drunk, be I?''
'Naw-you're all right"
"Did have a bite?'
eyes, guess so. Why don't yer pun
up an see?'
Pull up an see? o, certainly, 1 must
pull up"
Again he tackled his line desperate
ly. Yard after yard he pulled in until
he had little mountain of string be-
side him, and then he paused for rest.
Say, boy, come an fish for me, will
yer?''
Nav; can't yer see I'm fishing for
meself?"
Pull in yer line, quick! dere's some
ting on yer hook, now," yelled another
urchin as he rose to his feet and ran
over to the old fisherman.
Under the spur of this excitement
the now bewildered and befuddled
angler seized his line with do-or-die
expression depicted upon his wonder
ing features and, staggering to his
feet, began to pull in the line hand
over hand in a most rapid and frantic
manner, as if his very life depended
| upon the result.
Still the endless yards came on like
| the march of the centuries, so to speak
until finally, in amazement and despair,
the dazed fisherman dropped the line
as he hoarsely muttered:
eff Davy Jones has started twine
factory he amt goin' to rope me in fol
an agent. Some O. you fellers can have
| the job. Boston journal.