The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-07-27
AROUND THE CORRIDORS.

1t is q safe speculation that if the Fish Com
missioners ever want to confer with reliable
authority on the piscatorial art they will
never go to Tom Burns, cashier OF the United
States Treasury. The only objection is that
Mr.. Burns has generated some original meth
DDS in the matter of fishing and they are not,
as rule, accepted by the better class OF legiti-
mate anglers.
To illustrate Toms peculiarities: One day
last week he decked himself out in complete
fisherman's costume-British hat, laced boots,
wicker basket and all-and proceeded TO leave
his house for few hours sport in the deep,
deep sea. Toward evening he came struggling
back to the City with weary look and met
some friends coming out of the Occidental
Hotel. "Hello, Tom. What luck?" was the
first inquiry.
"Luck" queried Tom. "Plenty OF it. Just
come out in the annex of this institution and
I'll show you. Stand back there, Doc Hughes,
while hold this big one up in front of your
eyes," With that he plunged his hands down
to the bottom of his basket and felt around
for moment with an earnest expression on
his face.
"Where did you catch them, TOMB"
soft the point by the old fort above Sausa-
lito," answered Burns, still searching for the
"big one." ooh, here it is. Hows that, Doc?'
he remarked as he brought three-pound Lake
Tahoe trout into view. "Ain't she dandy?'
Dan OConnell, who happened to be present,
looked sideways at Jim Flynn and Flynn
looked inquiringly at Hughes, who in turn
was eying Mr.. Burns with suspicious look on
his face. Burns was absolutely Indifferent to
the silence, for no one said word. All eyes
We're riveted on the fish. Presently the man
who went down to the sea in q boat broke out:
mo wonder you're knocked SPECIFICS.
should think you would also lose your sight.
Did you ever see anything to approach that.
Here's another" He then proceeded to drag
out twO-pounder and followed itwith dozen
brook trout. The silence was almost visible to
the naked eye, and OConnen was compelled
to approach the nickel-in-the-slot machine for
fear he would break out in such tremendous
applause that he would be put out OF the place.
Presently Mr.. Flynn, who has known Burns
since childhood, threw off his dazed condition
and inquired of Thomas how he caught them.
"Well, don't like to give up the rndiments
Of angling to immature sportsmen like you,
Jim, but if O'Connell will quit moping over
there and acknowledge that he is not the only
angler in this county will tell you how it is
done'
Dan Strengthened his face out, extracted a
caviar sandwich from the lunch table and
bowed gracefully.
"An right, Dan. Never be jealous of a good
angler. 1t happened this way. 1 caught the
small trout in the surf with fly, and in the
afternoon l floated out a little from land and
sneaked these big ones out with trolling line.
Always bait with worms, Dan. By the way,
it's a wonder you never got onto that place.
Well, Ive got to get home. See you to-mor-
row.
Mr.. Burns moved away, and the worthy
Daniel O'Connell, poet, playwright, bard and
Bohemian. muttered, "Great guns, Tom Burns
has prolific imagination"