370 BOOK OP THE BLACK BASS. 



A perfect day for fishing, might be described as a warm, 

 pleasant day, witli a balmy, invigorating breeze; a mellow 

 sunlight, not too bright, produced by a somewhat hazy at- 

 mosphere, or by drifting clouds; when the season has 

 been neither too wet nor too dry; such a day as makes it 

 a pleasure for one to breathe, and inhale with delight the 

 odors and fragrance of forest, field, and stream. 



Not a day that produces a feeling of exquisite languor, 

 and disposes to delicious, dreamy reveries, like the stimu- 

 lant effect of an opiate ; but a day when the atmosphere 

 seems filled with some indescribable aerial stimulant, that 

 acts upon the brain, nerves, and circulation like sparkling 

 wine; that rouses the energies and spurs the nerves, pulses, 

 and muscles to action ; such a day as makes one desire to 

 laugh, to sing, to leap, to caper, to race through the mead- 

 ows, to indulge in sudden impulses, in short, to make one 

 feel a boy again. 



Such a day, when the water is semi-transparent or trans- 

 lucent, and of such a temperature when it is most pleasant 

 to bathe in — such a day, I say, is sure to be a satisfactory 

 one to the angler, and the fish will be pretty sure to bite. 



On a day such as I have just described, I once made my 

 largest catch of Black Bass, though I have always been 

 opposed to " big catches," on principle ; for 1 hold that 

 when the sole object in angling is to catch fish as long as 

 they will " bite," the proceeding leaves the province of 

 sport, and degenerates into pot-fishing, or, what is worse, 

 useless and unjustifiabh; slaughter; much in the same way 

 that, when an unprincijiled merchant, during the war, took 

 unfair advantage of certain circumstances, and sold goods 

 at an advance of five hundred per cent., and who, when 

 afterwards boasting of the fine per etiitayc of profit real- 



