PAN-FISHING 



It is not every day that a good catch of pan- 

 fish can be made. The wind and the weather 

 must be right. When the sun falls blindingly 

 on level stretches of water which is un- 

 wrinkled by a solitary ripple, except when a 

 turtle's head is thrust above the surface, then 

 the pan-fish get lazy and seem to lose their 

 appetites. They drop down to the cooler 

 depths of the lake and look listlessly at the 

 dangling bits of perch meat, and eye askance 

 the wriggling and ruddy-hued angle-worms. 

 It is too hot ; too still. The lazy cattle stand 

 motionless on the hill-sides and birds seek the 

 coolest recesses in the woods. It is not the 

 time to fish. But when the morning breaks 

 in a web of cloudy streaks, and a wind comes 

 from the south, rippling the water into a 

 maze of gray wrinkles, then dig your worms 

 and get ready for the fray. Cloudy days are 

 the days to fish in. In open spaces among 

 the bulrushes, where the water is about five 

 or six feet deep, is a good place to anchor 

 the boat. 



The spectacle of some women fishing for 

 the first time is a sight worth a day's journey 

 to witness. The fair angler pities the fish 



