AND HOW 1 HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 51 



marbles, tops, or buttons. Even in Moses' time 

 first-fruits were at a premium. We long for the 

 fifteenth of January and our first salmon, the first 

 of April for trout, the twelfth of August for grouse, 

 and the sport of every other season on its birthday. 

 Soon it will be known by all sportsmen (the know- 

 ledge grows apace) that there is a sport as glorious 

 in its season as any of these. 



Salmon fishing is costly, trout fishing precarious, 

 and grouse shooting not infrequently a sight of 

 birds deliberately made wild and a free hand with 

 rabbits. Pollack fishing is cheap, and the fish un- 

 sophisticated. They are absolutely on the wait 

 for your lure, and will let you know it without a 

 moment's hesitation. Their appetites scarcely ever 

 fail, and, no matter how full they may be, they 

 make noble efforts for just one more. They are 

 so jealously hungry when another gets the bait 

 before them that they will follow the hooked one 

 to within a yard of the gaff, and when you com- 

 mence to let out again for another try, your bait 

 will sometimes be seized with such violence as will 

 teach you to keep your fingers clear of the handle 

 of your winch. 



It was soon mid-day, and the sky everywhere a 

 a perfect blue, with the sun at its highest, blazing 

 down with great effect on our necks and noses, and 

 yet the fish bit as if it were early dawn or the time 

 that comes between the setting of the sun and dark 

 night. No skill was used, such as is sometimes 



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