The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1902-12-22
A GIRT. GOES A-FIsHING.


My uncle, who is eighty-three years
old, was induced by me-one Of those
girls that delight in all outdoor sports
to go for days fishing on the river.
The bass were plenty In the Susque-
hanna, and from all reports also biting
we'll
Now, uncle was a great fisherman,
usually coming in with an empty bait
box and an equally empty fish-basket-
but still his enthusiasm was always
great, and the immense fish that he
lost and the many bites he had were
truly remarkable.
For a long time this fishing trip had
been planned. So one morning when the
wind was in the south and clouds were
overhead, our preparations were begun.
OF course, the nearest creek was first
visited for minnows, when. after
struggle with brush, bitches, tangled
lines, and the loss of several hooks, we
succeeded in capturing six. which, by
the way, were nearly large enough for
eating.
Well. we were tired with this attempt
and little bit discouraged. but we at
| least had the consolation of Knowing
where to get some worms to finish out
for bait.
| Finally, about noon, we were on our
way to the river, which was about
/ quarter of q mile away. Uncle was
laden with the minnoW pail two
anchors and the fish poles, while / had
the bait-box, lunch basket, and an um-
brella. We were indeed we'll equipped.
| After securing a neighbours boat we
had to fix the anchors and rig the fish
poles, and as it was now long after
noon, we concluded to eat our lunch.
This task was soon completed, and We
We're at last on the water. At the
mouth of a small creek, which uncle
said would be a fine place for bass, the
anchor was dropped and fishing was
! commenced.
! We found that the minnows were all
dead, as the pail leaked, and the water
had nearly all run out, so we had to
use worms for bait
l had just thrown my line in the wa
ter, put up my umbrella (the sun was
i, now shining, when, jerk went some
thing at my line. OF course, l at once
pulled it up. so quickly. in fact that
my umbrella went handle down in the
river. and with my pole uncle's hat
was knocked from his head and went
sailing serenely down the Susquehan-
ma. We pulled anchors with all haste
and were away after the floating ar
ticles.
After ten-minute chase they were
captured and put up in the boat to dry,
and we were again ready to fish-but,
oh! what did l catch? 1t was merely
an old root which took me about ten
minutes to free from the line. Uncle
had a very short slender pole. with
which he was fond of throwing long
line. After fishing for about half ar
hour without even a bite, he concluded
that he had too short a line, and al
once unreeled about fifty. feet or more
and attempted to throw 1t; vain at
tempt-~the line was wound around my
pole, one anchor, and both oars, and ir
the struggle the bait-box was knocked
into the river, where it Immediately
sunk.
No, uncle was not provoked, merely
nervous: so nervous that very Wig.
orous jerk which he gave to free his
line left his pole broken above the sec.
ond joint.
It took us only a short time to ge
home. and when I go fishing again
shall sit on the shore and fish for shin,
ers. Uncle will have, to put in a new
supply of fishing tackle, and when mex
he goes he will doubtless consider il
more profitable to go alone, or IL h,
takes me, to at least teach me how t.
| pull in root.-From the Forest ant
Stream.