A FISHERMAN'S LUCK. 



BY H. M. K. 

 Bein!< a Spook Story for Fishermen. 



No fisherman could ever desire a 

 Taetter companion on the stream than 

 Jim. Jim was a splendid fellow in 

 many ways — gentle, kind, generous, 

 and good-natured as the day was long. 

 There was only one thing I had against 

 him, he was " so confoundedly supersti- 

 tious. " He went by signs and omens, 

 believed most profoundly in "luck," 

 and was everlastingly on the lookout 

 for things that seemed to me weird 

 and uncanny. Whether it was in his 

 blood or came at his training, I know 

 not; but if ever fisherman believed in 

 **a fisherman's luck," it was my friend 

 Jim. 



For instance: Early one May morn- 

 ing, we had walked a full half mile 

 from the farmer's house at the foot of 

 the mountain, where we were to spend 

 a glorious week trout-fishing. The day 

 was just breaking, and the sun was 

 flooding the eastern sky with glory, 

 and we were full of anticipation and 

 eager to beat the early fly on the 

 waters, when all of a sudden Jim 

 stopped stock still in his tracks, and 

 said: 



"Confound it! I've got to go back 

 to the house." 



"Why? What's up?" 



" I forgot my pipe." 



"Oh, well, never mind," said I. 

 "I've got plenty of cigars along; 

 they'll do, I reckon.'" 



"No, sir," said Jim, "I've got to 

 have my pipe. Cigars are no good. 

 Besides, it's bad luck to start and 

 forget anything." 



' ' Bad luck, I guess, for the thing 

 that gets forgot," said I. "Come on, 

 man, we're losing the best hours of the 

 day." 



No, sir. Back he would go, and 

 back he did go. But before he re- 

 turned to the house, he divested him- 

 self of all his fishing equipment, 

 basket, rod, and so on, and then looked 

 up a stick, sharpened it, and drew a 

 round circle in the middle of the dusty 

 road, and carefully spat in the center 

 of it. 



I laughed at him, for I had heard of 

 that device before, as resorted to even 

 by eminent persons to break the charm 

 of ill luck in being obliged to go back 

 for a thing, but he hurried away, and 

 only said: "You wait and see." 



Well, I waited; in no very good 

 humor, you may well believe, for by 

 the time Jim got back, the sun was up, 

 and all our prospects for taking the big 

 fish at unawares were "all up" for 

 that day, too. 



I chaffed him unmercifully for his 

 superstition, when we were at work on 

 the stream; called him an "old 

 woman " and all kinds o' things, but it 

 did no good. 



"No use, Harry," said he. "You 

 can't make me give up my belief in 

 luck, nor doubt my luck signs. I tell 

 you I've seen too much to be laughed 

 or argued out of my belief in them. 

 For instance: there is an old proverb 

 which says, ' What's twice is thrice. ' 

 You just try to light your pipe or cigar 

 with a match. You notice, now. You 



