A Day on the Maquoketa. 



again, making the water boil in his frantic effort to rid him- 

 self of the hook. At last his spurts were weaker ; the narrowing 

 circles of his runs indicated surrender and I gently began to 

 reel him in ; but he was not yet on the string, for, as I was about 

 landing him, he broke away again and renewed the battle. But 

 this was his last struggle and I soon had the flopping beaut}' 

 safe in the bottom of the boat. I was proud of my achieve- 

 ment and well I might be, for he was one of the largest bass I 

 ever caught. After admiring and commenting on his beauty, 

 size and gameness, we turned our attention to the business of 

 the day, and it was not long before each of us had landed his 

 bass and was clamoring for a chance at the minnow bucket. 

 We fished until the sun reached the noonday mark in the 

 heavens ; then ate our lunch and reluctantly turned back to the 

 landing place, with one of the finest strings of bass I ever saw. 

 We were thoroughly satisfied with the morning's sport, and as 

 we trudged slowly home through the woods, with our heavy 

 string of fish, the contented look upon our faces bore mute but 

 eloquent testimony of that perfectly delightful day spent on 

 the old Quaker Mill Pond. 



Sports Afield. 



[29 



