The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1899-04-02

a meeting last week, at the sug-
gestion Of Colonel Richard M.
Johnson. The colonel proposed to
present a fine bamboo fishing rod for
the best hunting or fishing story told
by any of the members, barring him
self. The colonel is away up in G" when
1t comes to storytelling, and he thought
he would encourage some of the Younger
members of the club in the entertaining
art of detailing, graphically, some inter-
esting incident or novel experience con-
nected with fishing or hunting trip.
Accordingly, all the boys assembled.
after due notice of the purpose of the
meeting, last Monday night says the St.
Louis Globe-Democrat. each one deter
mined to carry away that handsome
fishing rod.
Promptly at p m. all were present.
George Stumm jollied everybody until he
was dared to start the ball rolling with
the first story.
well, l don't mind said George. tbut
I'd rather hear some of the other stories.
because I'm afraid you'll all quit when
I'm through"
"All right. Mr. Stumm," replied Colonel
Johnson; you have the floor"
''All of you know where Gileads Slough
is, don't you, boys? OF course you do.
Lots of you have fisheu there, / know.
It's a fine place to catch crappie, and
bass, too, if you only know how to do 1t.
I'm on, and I'll just let you into the Sc
cret by relating my experience up there
with some friends last summer.
I'VE were guests of Calhoun County
Club and were eager to make a good
catch of crappe and bass, but somehow
or other the first day we could hardly
catch enough to cook for supper. The
next morning we all turned out early, de-
termined to make a killing, as sporting
men say. Up to noon we had only nine
teen crappie between the lot of US, and
a big feeling of disgust seized all of the
boys but your Uncle George. Not one
would return to the lane after dinner,
concluding to have a social game where
the breezes swept through the cool rooms
of the club house.
81 hadn't given up yet. I had seen
some old green frogs blinking at me
along the shore of the slough, so I con-
cluded to take along with me little 22-
caliber rife that was at the club house,
and knock the eyes out of some of the
croakers if they showed up during the
afternoon while L was watching those red
corks of mine 1 took a tow-headed
country boy along to handle the boat and
by p. m. l was at it again. Not a fish
but few small crappie rewarded my pa
thence up to 5 O'Clock. Then 1 began to
get that feeling of disgust myself, but as
I was looking down in the water I saw
l was leaning over the side of the boat
at the time, when a large pearl button
that was on my blue flannel shirt dropped
into the water. No sooner had It struck
the surface than a splash of spray was
dashed into my face. Both of those
burned bass leaped clear out of the water
in their eagerness to get that button.
"'Ah, ha! I exclaimed; now 1 know
what you want. I'll give you all there Isl
loft RI 7 will az
pearls before bass until they can't rest.'
and I did. 1 placed a button on my hook
and dropped it down deep, where I could
see several bass. They would not touch
1t. Then 1 let it so to the bottom, but
the bass only. looked askance and backed
away. l. saw those bass were not pearl
divers, so I began trailing, but not sim
gle strike. In utter disgust I took the
button off the hook and cast it out ten
feet. At least half dozen bass just
churned the water into buttermilk in their
eagerness to get it.
Then 1 determined to try an expert
ment. 1 tied a button on my line, after
removing hook, sinker and float, and
gently cast out. without a single skit-
ter game old bass had it. He hung on
until l got him almost up to the boat
then*let go and SHE'D off. Wise old bass
of Gilead's, l thought; you know when
a fishhook is in sight. Now, I'll fool
you I handed the rod to young Wilkin-
son, and instructed him to cast out the
buttoned line when 1 told him to.
II picked up that little % Stevens az
the boy tossed out the button. Oh. what
a beauty nailed my shirt ornament He
was bulldog in tenacity, refusing even
to take a down shoot, but just shook
away at the button like terrier The
boy raised the bass head above the
water, and 1 cracked away with the rifle.
In an instant l saw that bass turn belly
up" c.
At this point in the recital the other
members of the club began to fidget and
make audible groans of incredulity, but
it never feazed Stumm in the least.
Another and another bass was served
in the same way" continued George,
land when 1t was too dark to shoot we
picked up thirty bronze daisies; all over
two pounds in weight And what do you