DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 279 



bait caused me to hesitate to show ours, but they 

 had to come to view, and it was as I feared ; Pat 

 looked and listened as a man does when a child 

 displays his toys. Holding the tiller pressed be- 

 tween his arm and side he put the tail of a 

 slaughtered eel upon his hook, evidently in no 

 way moved from his purpose to have a line out 

 in which he could have some faith. 



It would have been easy, but unkind, and most 

 unwise, to have told him that we should not need 

 his lines and lures or his help beyond piloting us to 

 the most likely places. Unkind, because he had 

 told us he had fished for pollack ever since he was 

 old enough to hold his father's lines, and unwise, 

 as men's good temper is the first essential for their 

 best work. 



His faith in the eel - tail, which with clumsy, 

 horny fingers he lovingly put on, so filled his huge 

 frame, that I was prompted to suggest a contest 

 giving him the fullest chance to beat my son's rod 

 and line. Pat offered me his line when paid out 

 but I declined it, saying I preferred to watch him 

 using it as I wanted to see which would catch more 

 fish, he or my son. While I was saying this Pat 

 gave a hearty jerk, and got a start with a six- 

 pound fish, but he was not allowed to keep it 

 long as Harry made short work with one of nine 

 and almost immediately after was playing a heavier 

 fish, the play and landing of which gained a 

 noticing remark from his opponent: "Shure thin 

 it's tough that fine stuff is." 



He was also pleased to speak kindly of the meat 

 hook that held up the eleven-pound fish while the 

 hook was wrested from its mouth. 



