The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1915-05-06
Batting a Weir.
The Joke Played on a "Greenhorn'' from
the City.
TBcston Globe.l

[Bcston Globe.l
PROSPECT, Me-, April 26. P. Higgin-
son Smith of Brookline, Mass, semi-re-
tired stockbroker and owner of Penob-
scotside, formerly and still known to the
natives as the old Cap'n Ludlow place, is
beginning to see light.
Mr. Smith has the reputation of being
a gun fighter in business, but since he
bought the farm down here in this peace
full valley, he has shed his armor, put
away his weapons and ceases his eternal
vigilance as soon as he gets east of
Portsmouth and the brakem n begin to
ignore the ''r's'' in speaking of the sta
lions.
That was what made the simple life
down on the Penobscot river good for
man, Mr.. Smith told his friends at the
club. One wasn't always watching out
for stabs under the ribs and shots in the
back, he said, and it was great strain
taken off.
The simple native fishermen and farm
ers, he said, were all honest and anyone
could tell just what to depend upon; and
as for joking why, they hadn't the
slightest sense of humor. Why, he could
only use the kindergarten stories on
them and then had to draw diagram to
When Mr. Smith bought the old Lud
low place four years ago, he had to make
a concession to the effect that the man
from whom he bought it should have the
fishing privilege Of the shore for three
years. This meant for the salmon weir,
which was built early every spring,
line of ''hedge" running out into the
river 100 yards or SO, with "pound" or
trap at the outer end, into which the sal
mon were supposed to nose their way
and not be able to find their way out
also many other kinds of fish.
Mr.. Smith has been waiting impatiently
for the time to come when he would own
the weir, have the delights of eating the
fresh Penobscot river salmon from his
own catch and perhaps send some to his
friends in the city.
THEN HE BEGAN TO WONDER.
This year he made trip to Maine in
February, long before the ice was out of
the upper river, and contracted with an
experienced native to build the ware"
Maine pronunciation, at the earliest pos
sible moment.
The native was little too early, and
it was nearly built when belated ice
foe came along and the work had to be
done all over again.
But Mr.. Smith didn't mind the ex-
pense. He dropped everything and came
down from Boston several weeks ago. 1t
isn't anything like summer down here
yet and he had to board at farmhouse,
but he was happy tending weir" This
process is padding out to the pound in
ping out the salmon, or other fish, if
there are any.
Mr.. Smith put in week, without a
salmon, and then began to wonder. The
native mildly suggested that it was bit
eariy-that the weather wasn't just
right and there wouldn't be much of
run until the MAY SCHOOL, got along.
Then reports came of fish being taken
at weirs farther upriver, and some down
on Brigadier's Island and over on We
roma.
MIR. Smith began to be impatient. He
talked at Hartman store and said he
didn't believe that the weir was built
right.
That rather "set crosswise" on young
Sam Hartman, who engineered the job,
who explained that the weir was built
exactly where it had been for more. than
SO years and that the fish would come in
time, most anytime, and that the
catches which had been made were just
stragglers.
After Mr.. Smith had left the store the
other night, Sam Hartman remarked to
some of the neighbours Toys, Bill Hard
ing, Joe Simpson, Alec Bowden and Jed
Bowden and some others, that:
''This city Teller won't ever be no
good until he 'nitiated-guess we'll have
to give him few degrees"
=
Bucksport Grand Banker right off and
wouldn't be home unit! late in the fall.
MosS-GRowN JOKE AT WORK.
Jed happened down on the Smith shore
the next morning just as the city owner
was coming ashore with total catch of
three founders, q sculpin and half doz-
en- tomcods.