The Evening statesman. [volume] (Walla Walla, Wash.) 1903-1910, 1909-04-04

"Stubby. it was on right there; the
wiggling little wormlet on my crooked
little booklet found its way into the
yawning cavity of something in the
depths of the stream, and l stood
transfixed on the slippery log-stood,
as it were, on the bridge at midnight;
the bridge of signs. But the shock
of the bite came near my undoing on
the spot. for in turning around to give
NV ottention to the monster shooting
through the rifles, my outside foot
struck pay dirt and there was drop
in beef quotations. / made a grace
full bow to the audience and dropped,
while thoughts of drowning flashed
wildly through my thinker, and like
a tub of butter 1 struck the log, one
foot finding a resting place on one
side, and the other on the opposite
side.
was 1 startled? Oh, slightly! And
the cussed member of the scaley tribe
still pulled upon my last years line.
He was a bouncer, Stubby, and I'll take
an oath up an a stack of Bibles that
he would have tipped the Fairbanks at
16 pounds; but he was not for me.
After wrestling for what seemed like
the length of a Presbyterian SER
mon on prohibition, had the satisfac-
ton of feeling that yours truly was
master of the situation, and that, like
Rockefeller was in a position to say,
Come to me- and the brute would
come.
But just as I was deploying so as
to get the gamey trout besides the log,
and mastering all my surplus strength
to hook him in the net, 1 heard noise
that turned the worms in the tomato
can a pale blue, and made my heart
thump like Tausicks laundry whistle.
Creak, groan, snap. That fish could
have been in Oklahoma City or in
more momentous questions were play
ing hide and whoop in the cells of my
gray matter one of them being pre-
dominant-what was it?
Tremendously 1 chung to the butt Of
the rod, and just as tenaciously that
veteran trout chung to the end of the
worm. Twas like a political pull for
a fat-paying job, and had all the best
of it until the aeroplane scared sky
ward and the trout dumped ballast.
The struggles of finny lobster were too
much for the log, which, with my COM
bined weight, doubled like a baby with
the collie, and a cold plunge was on
the bill for mine Seeing it could not
be averted, and that l would not have
to drop more than % feet at the most,
I made ready and letter go.
"Gosh, that water was cold, and the
way gold Filings dropped out of my
shaking jaws was a sight. In the de-
scent 1 forgot my errand and dropped
the pole and by the time my senses
were returning that veteran was far
Their from my basket than he had been
for some time previous, and pole, line,
reel and worm were on their way with
him. Nope; 1 didn't cuss-did L?
Those Blue mountains looked b1uer
since.
Mechanically 1 ambled home, came
through the back alley, changed my
clothes, and was happy to learn that
the old girl had gone to meeting of
the Misery Loves Company club. I
found some at the same old stand, and
next time 1 saw the other half, your
uncle Willie was in no condition to
give a glowing account of my expedi-
to the meat market and invest two bits
in smoked halibut to show her what I
had accomplished
"'Do you mean to tell me you
caught those in Mill creek?' she asked
sternly.
yep said I.
"'What do you take me for? she re-
turned, with flash of her brown eyes.
WE'LL says l, I took you for better
or for worse, but I'll be chawed up if
1 don't think you did all the taking
yourself
"Just the same,' says she, I don't
want you to thing that you can bum
foozle me into thinking those smoked
herring are the results of that crazy
jaunt you went on yesterday
Amt you ever going fishing again.,
asked the Con-
Cant make a representation at
this time; may get polluted enough to