OLD HOMESTEAD 



ters of a mile apart, and we could fish up one and down the 

 other, starting from and landing near home. Sometimes we 

 joined with the Wilcox boys, who were also fond of the sport, 

 and all went in a big, noisy gang, either taking turns as to who 

 should go ahead or relying upon our legs for the lead. The big- 

 gest catch made by any of us boys, time considered, was by 

 Whitfield Wilcox. 



One rainy day we were at the ''ducking-hole," swimming 

 and playing in the water. Whit, went ashore and picked up his 

 pole, and, without dressing, took out eighty trout, weighing 

 from three ounces to a pound, as fast as he could drop in and 

 pull out his hook — taking them from where we were splashing 

 and swimming about in the deep hole. 



The hole under the milldam was sure for a half-dozen or more. 

 There was a great big rock just below the milldam, with a deep 

 hole worn out under it, which mother always called her "pork 

 barrel," and told us that in early days, while living in the old 

 log house, if she wanted fish, she never failed to get all that she 

 required in five minutes' fishing from under this rock. By the 

 big rock under the bridge by the mill, and the ''floodwood" hole 

 below the mill, were other places where we always got them. 

 As we grew up we became more skillful and had better tackle, 

 but had to go farther to get the fish. 



John was also something of a hunter — a thing he learned 

 from William Johnson. I never cared much for it, and after 

 having the old gun kick the skin from and bruise my shoulder a 

 few times, thought still less of it. 



*' Good swimming" was a popular amusement. From very 

 early spring till chilly fall we embraced every opportunity to ''go 

 111" — I cannot now see why, except it was because we were for- 

 bidden to do it. We frequently stole away and met other boys, 



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