Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-10-27
FISHING AND FISHING.
They Who Fish by Main Strength and
They Who Fish With Intelligence.

From the Rochester Post Express.
There is fishing and fishing. A man may
enter into the pastime with all the en-
thusiasm Of old IZaak Walton. or he may
haul the finny victims nom their native
element at the end of thick handiine
Either In the popular pariance Is called
fishing. Also. dynamittng, netting. spear
ing and sharing are equally Included under
the same categorical head. And in this
confusion Of methods under one designa-
ton is found obvious reason for that diff
ference of opinion which Puddnhead VIII
son observed was necessary In horse races
The artist in the sport looks askance at
the hauler of the hand lire. and he In turn
sneers with contempt at the delicate instru-
ments of the others preference. The one
sc eks sport not fish; and the other fish. not
sport. Last Sunday a pedestrian who was
enjoying the peaceful beauty "f the Dug
way had opportunity of behaldlng
puzzling picture of piscatorial opposltes Al
one bend In Irondequoit creek stood man
with slender and flexible rod. A glitter
ing reel responded delicately to the pres
sure of a finger, and TIE silken line ended
in an invisible length of fiimy leader. Inc
tiny weight of Il leaden pellet made the rod
flicker and bend like feather In zephyr,
and when an occasional rock bass struck.
the struggle whipped the graceful shaft
into a parabola of jerking Stubbornness
Every fish which the sportsman landed
meant five minutes of skiliful play. and
tEeir number was not spectacularly great,
nor their size worthy of extended language.
Half a mile up the stream the Wanderef
strolled, and there he another sight
1t was a picture OF peaceful repose set II
a frame of reStful method. Beneath will
lows mournful boughs sat an ancient and
ruminatiye man. A corncOD pipe was be-
tween his lips. and ever and anon he puffet
in gentle and contemplative cloud. From
behind. would have thought him asleep.
but it would have been a mistake. He did
rot sleep A nearer approach discovered
that this elderly and peaceful man occupied
a seat upon the soft turf of the bank equi-
distant from four bamboo poles arranged
like the guns of a sea coast battery and
trained upon the ripping current of the
creek. The ancient man sat with two poles
on each side of him, and within reach of
ready wrist From the outer ends OF the
poles bobbed and swung four corks. The
pedestrian stood in silence and watched
Suddenly one of the corks Surged under
Quick a flash the p!sca torial patriarch
reached for the proper pole and heaved,
struggling upon the grass. Il leaping victim
of his successful lure. With quiet move the
hook was rewormed and the bobber bobbed
at ease. Once two of the corks We're pulled
under a once and the Y. lie ancient whisked
his catch upon the bank, one pole In each
hand. Between times he sat I'm awful still
ness and puffed his corncob pipe.
A question. pitched IN a tone properly
guarded. brought his head around upon his
shoulder. He said he had been having pref
ty fair luck for three hours fishing, and he
strained at a string anchored beneath him
on the bank. In this he was like the most
faStidouS fiycaSter that ever struck trout
with tiny glitter of gold and red He
showed his CT tcil with conscious pride. The
pedestrian counted eight mullets. FIVE rock
bass, three so-called Gswego bass, five
pound pickerel and innumerabIe sunffsh.
Are the mullets good to eat at this time
of year," asked the pedestrian. WALL
said the manager of the pole quartet mot
pertickler bein' soft" He was thereupon
asked what he did with 'en. Take 'em
home TO show the old woman. and then. il
the neighbors don't want them. thrun 'em
away. TIE ole woman Is powerful fond of
loollin' at my ketcb''
Now. the artist with the ffyrod was fish
ing and the pa triarch with the four ba mboo
poles was fishing. The question is: Who
was the fisherman?