A Day's Black Bass Fishing at Upper Woods Lake, Fa. 15 
pads. I was not altogether inexper- 
ienced in the art of minnow-casting, 
for I had practised at various times 
under the guidance and instruction of a 
brother angler, using a quarter-ounce 
weight to represent the minnow; so 
when the critical moment came for me 
to ‘‘let her go” in response to the warn- 
ieOneoun oude,, Lodida<Set her go,” 
and was told I had made a good cast 
and as my minnow struck the water 
there was a gleam, a sudden flash and 
a swirl upon the surface of the lake as 
the guide almost yelled, ‘‘ Strike, miss, 
Guick> (‘he's a beauty. - And: strike’ I 
did, quick as thought. But who shall 
tell the thrill of joy I felt as the tight- 
ening line and singing reel proclaimed 
to my delighted senses that I had fairly 
hooked my first bass. As our guide 

The Path Through the Forest. 
of about fifty feet. But, alas for my 
ih tortiune, -* Reel in again, miss; 
you've lost your bait,” were the words 
that greeted my disappointed ears as I 
slowly proceeded to obey his instruc- 
Hons) “| Yow cast a little too hard, 
miss; let me give you a stronger min- 
now, and try it again; take it a little 
easier, but don’t cast till we come to 
that old log lying across the shore in 
front of the lily pads.” With bated 
breath, as well as hook, I waited once 
more for the word to ‘‘let her go.” At 
last, with lengthened line, I cast again, 
quickly pulled the boat into deep water, 
my struggling captive commenced to 
dart back and forth in conscious 
strength, when suddenly he took an 
aerial flight and startled me by jump- 
ing nearly two feet out of the water, 
vainly endeavoring in his rage to shake 
the hook out of his widely distended 
jaws. How every nerve tingled with 
hardly suppressed delight as I firmly 
grasped my rod when he fell with angry 
splash to the depths again. ‘‘ Keep 
him steady, miss, and lower the pint o’ 
your rod when he jumps again,” were 
