A Fisherman' s Luck. 



325 



no ill-luck by the time we reached the 

 house. At all events a good supper 

 was awaiting- us. The old owl hadn't 

 got away with that, anyhow, nor with 

 my appetite. He'd a had a heavy load 

 to carry if he'd a tackled my appetite, 

 and whether owls flew to the right or 

 left I didn't care a snap of my finger so 

 long as the good housewife's supply of 

 fried chicken and glorious waffles held 

 out. 



Well, after a good supper and a good 

 smoke we went to bed. We were put 

 to lodge on the first floor of the house, 

 and as the weather was warm, we left 

 the window open. Our two .split 

 bamboo rods we did not take apart, but 

 lay them along the wall on two 

 convenient pegs, just as they were 

 when we stopped fishing. On the hook 

 attached to my leader, I remembered 

 afterward, there was a small live bait, 

 a minnow, with which I had been 

 angling for a large trout when we left 

 the stream, and which I had carelessly 

 allowed to remain on the hook. 



Jim put out the light of the tallow 

 candle, and we were soon both sound 

 asleep. * * * Along in the middle of 

 the night somewhere I was awakened all 

 of a sudden by a terrible commotion in 

 the room. My reel was running out at 

 a furious rate, and half awake as I at 

 first was, and probably busy dreaming 

 about fi.shing, I was about to "strike" 

 my fish when Jim sat bolt upright in 

 bed and said in a blood-curdling 

 whisper : 



" Wh-a-t's that?" 



I didn't know, and so didn't attempt 

 to answer. 



The tallow candle and candlestick 

 together now flew across the room and 

 struck the wall on the other side. My 

 reel kept on running; the chairs began 

 to dance and spin over the bare floor ; 



there was a sivisking sound as of 

 something cutting the air as with a 

 whip; and interspersed amongst these 

 various noises there was a constant 

 Ph— t! Ph— t! Ph— t! The whole room 

 was in a commotion — and Jim and I 

 both sprang out of bed, rushed for the 

 hall door, and got out into the hallway 

 as quick as we could, feeling sure that 

 Old Nick was after us. 



Closing the room door carefully, so 

 as to keep him in, if he was there, I 

 asked Jim what kind of a sign he 

 considered this. But he only muttered 

 something with chattering teeth about 

 "that owl that flew to the left — d'ye 

 mind ?" 



The farmer now appeared on the 

 scene, with a " What's up ? " We told 

 him his house spooked — bad; and that 

 if he would accommodate us with a 

 candle (ours being hopelessly in posses- 

 sion of " the powers of darkness ") we'd 

 be obliged to him, and that we'd then 

 sit up and wait for daylight. 



The man soon brought a candle, and 

 saying that he had never seen or heard 

 any spooks in his house, and, beg 

 pardon, he didn't believe there were 

 any in it. We threw open the door of 

 our haunted chamber and marched in 

 single file, Jim bringing up the rear. 



The mystery was soon solved. The 

 cat had got into our room by the open 

 window, and, cats being proverbially 

 fond of fish, she had devoured my dead 

 minnow and hooked herself in the jaw. 

 She then made a break for the window ; 

 the line had caught the candlestick and 

 sent it spinning across the room; had 

 then got tangled up amongst the chairs 

 and the table legs, and caused all this 

 devil's dance that had nearly scared us 

 out of our wits. 



That's all. I never go fishing with 

 Jim any more. 



