The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-10-04
FISHING AND-FISHING.
The Man Who Fishes for Sport and He
Who Fishes for Fish.

Rochester Post Express.
There is fishing and fishing. A man may
enter into the pastime with all the enthusi-
asm 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,
dynamiting, netting, spearing and enaring
are equally included under the same cate
gorical head. And in this confusion OF
methods under one designation is found OBJ
vious reason for that difference OF opinion
which Pudd'nhead Wilson observed was
necessary In horse races.
The artist in the sport looks askance at
the hauler OF the handline, and he In turn
sneers with contempt at the delicate instru-
ments of the others preference. 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
a puzzling picture OF piscatorial opposites-
AT one bend in Irondequoit creek stood q
man with a slender and flexible rod, more
like whip than pole. A glittering reel
responded delicately TO the pressure OF Q
finger. and the siIken line ended In an In
visible length Of flmy leader. The tiny
flicker and bend like a feather in a zephyr.
and when an occasional rock bass struck,
the struggle whipped the graceful shaft in
to a parabola Of Jerking stubbornness.
Every fish which the sportsman landed
meant five minutes OF skillfuI play, and
their number was not epectacularly great,
nor their size worthy of extended language.
Half a mile I'D the stream the wanderer
strolled, and there he saw another sight.
1t was picture OF peaceful repose set In
frame of restful method. Beneath a VII
low mournful Doughs sat an ancient and
ruminative man. a corncob pipe was be-
tween his lips and ever and anon he pulled
In gentle and contemplative cloud. From
behind, one would have thought him asleep.
but it would have been a mistake. He ala
not 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
Ike the guns OF a seacoat 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 o.
ready wrist. From the outer ends OF the
poles bobbed and swung four corks. The
pedestrian stood I'm silence and watched
Suddenly one or the corks surged under.
Quick as flash the piscatorial patriarch
reached for the proper pole and heaved
OF his successful lure. With quiet move the
hook was rewormed and the bobber bobbed
at ease Once two OF the corks were pulled
under at once and the agile ancient whisked
hand. Between times he sat I'm awful still
ness and pulled his corncob pipe
question, pitched In tone properly
guarded, brought his head around upon his
shoulder. He said he had been having pref
~ 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 hy-caster who ever struck
trout with tiny glitter OF gold and red
lie showed his catch with conscious pride.
The pedestrian counted eight mullets i've
rock bass. three so-called Oswego bass a
five-pound pickerel and innumerable sun
fish. Are the mulets good 10 eat at this
time OF Year, asked the pedestrian
wall said the manager OF the pole quar-
tet, mot pertickler, bein soft" He was
thereupon asked what he did with 'em.
take EN- home TO show 10 the old woman
and then. IL the neighbors don't want 'em.
thrun 'em away. The ole woman Is power
full fond OF lookin' at my ketch."
Now. the artist with the fiy-rod was fish,
ing and the patriarch with the four bamboo
poles fishing. The question Is. Who
was the fisherman?