96 WOODLAND IDYLS. 



Why should I pass up twenty sure thrills for 

 one or two uncertain ones ? Besides while catch- 

 ing the smaller fish I am a boy again, and at 

 my age I am not ashamed of being a boy, even 

 if most men are. Like Riley at Broad Ripple, 



"I bait my hook and cast my line 

 And feel the best of life is mine. 



No high ambition may I claim 

 I angle not for lordly game 

 Of trout, or bass, or wary bream 

 A black perch reaches the extreme 

 Of my desires ; and goggle-eyes 

 Are not a thing that I despise ; 

 A sunfish, or a "chub," or "cat" 

 A "silverside" yea, even that!" 



The log perch, 36 of which I caught three this 

 afternoon, is a long slender spiny-rayed fish of 

 the Darter group, which delights to rest on the 

 bottom in comparatively swift water near old 

 logs and roots. It bites like a trout with one 

 swift jerk taking the cork to the bottom. I had 

 two or three strikes from one the last afternoon 

 I was out, but did not then know what gave 

 such quick running bites at the bait. To-day, 

 at the second strike, I hooked one and jerked 

 it high in air. It came loose and fell back into 

 the water but I recognized it by the dark cross- 

 bars and slender body. Partially stunned it, 

 like other darters and hog-suckers, lay on the 



36 Etheostoma caprodes Raf. 



