We Go A-Fishing 129 



Great South Bay, or anywhere else. We have 

 books with us, we have hopes of a breeze to 

 come and fish to be caught. 



The true fisherman enjoys fishing whether he 

 catches fish or not. The love of fishing is 

 much akin to the love of gambling; whether 

 you win or lose there is pleasurable excitement 

 about it. It is the hope of getting something 

 for nothing, so to speak, and your true fisher- 

 man will sit upon the edge of a boat or the 

 string-piece of a wharf all day, content to be 

 there and meditate upon what he might have 

 caught or may yet catch. The best fishermen 

 I know are the old fellows who dangle their legs 

 over the edge of the Paris quays waiting for 

 goujons to bite little fish half the size of a 

 herring; and the catch of a round half-dozen 

 makes a red-letter day for the Seine fishermen. 

 I remember a picture of two of these enthusi- 

 asts going home in a pelting rain with an empty 

 creel between them. They have been out all 

 day and are drenched to the skin. One says : 

 "What a glorious sport this fishing is! What 

 would life be without it?" "Yes, indeed," 

 responds the other, "I shall never forget that 



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