The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-10-23
FISHING AND FISHING.
They Who Fish by Main Strength
and They Who Fish with Human
Intelligence.

Intelligence.
From the Rochester Post Express.
There is fishing and fishing. A man
may enter into the pastime With all
the enthusiasm of old Izaak Walton,
or he may haul the finny victims from
their native element at the end Of a
thick handline. Either in the popular
parlance is called fishing. Also dyna-
hitting, netting, spearing and snaring
are equally included under the same
categorical head. And in this confu-
sion of methods under one designation
is found obvious reason for that differ
ence of opinion which Puddnhea Will
son observed was necessary in horse
races.
The artist in the sport looks askance
at the hauler of the handIine, and he in
turn sneers with contempt at the del
icate instruments of the others pref
erence. The one seeks sport, not fish;
and the other fish. not sport. Last
Sunday a pedestrian who was enjoying
the peaceful beauty of the Dugway had
an opportunity of beholding pulling
picture of piscatoria1 opposites. At one
bend in Irondequoit creek stood a man
with slender and flexible rod. more
like whip than pole. A glittering
reel responded delicately to the pres
sure OF a finger, and the silken line
ended in an invisible length of filrny
leader. The tiny weight of a leaden
pellet made the rod flicker and bend
like a feather in a zephyr, and when
an occasional rock bass struck. the
struggle whipped the graceful shaft
into parabola of jerking stubborn
ness. Every fish which the sportsman
landed meant five minutes of skilful
play, ana their number was not spec
tacuiarly great, nor their size worthy
of extended language.
Half a mile up the stream the wan
derer strolled, and there he saw an
otner sight. 1t was a picture of peace
rul repose set in a frame of restful
method. Beneath a willows mourn
ful boughs sat an ancient and rumina-
i've man. A, corncob pipe was between
his lips and ever and anon he pulled
in a gentle and contemplative cloud.
FROM behind, one would have thought
him asleep, but it would have been
mistake He did not sleep. A near
er approach discovered that this elder
ly and peaceful man occupied a seat
upon the soft turf of the bank euiIi-
distant from four bamboo poles ar
ranged like the guns of a seacoast
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 a ready wrist.
From the outer ends of the poles bob
bed and swung four corks. The pedes-
trian stood in silence and watched.
Suddenly one of the corks surged I'M
der. Quick as flash the piscatorial
patriarch reached for the proper pole
and heaved. struggling upon the grass,
leaping victim of his successful lure.
With quiet move the hook was re-
wormed and the bober bobbed at ease.
once two of the corks We're pulled I'M
der at once and the agile ancient
Whisked his catch upon the bank, one
pole in each hand. Between times he
sat in awful stiffness and Duffed his
corncob pipe.
A question, pitched in tone proper
ly guarded. brought his head around
upon his shoulder. He said he had
been having pretty 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
fastidiouS fycaster that ever struck a.
trout with a tiny glitter of gold and
red. He showed his catch with con-
scious pride. The pedestrian counted
eight mullets, FIVE rock bass, three
so-called Oswego bass. a fiye-pound
pickerel and innumerable sunfish. Are
the mullets good to eat at this time
of year," asked the pedestrian. WALL"
said the manager of the pole quar-
cite, not pertickler. bein' soft" He
was thereupon asked what he did
with 'em. Take 'em home to show
to the old woman and then, IL the
neighbors don't want them. thrun 'em
away. The ole woman is powerful
fond of lookin' at my ketch.'
Now, the artist with the hyrod was
fishing and the. patriarch with the four
bamboo poles was fishing. The ques-
ton is: Who was the fisherman?