BLACK BASS FISHING 



By JAMES A. HENSHALL, 



AUTHOR OF ''BOOK OF THE BLACK BASS,'' ETC. 



A GLORIOUS morning for fishing!" said the Professor, as he 

 stepped down from the broad veranda of a stately Kentucky 

 mansion, and out upon the lawn, dashing the dew-drops from 

 the newly sprung blue-grass, as he leisurely strode along in his 

 heavy wading boots. 



Professor Silvanus was a man yet in the prime of life, with a 

 full beard, dark gray eyes, and a tall, powerful frame. A well- 

 informed naturalist, a capital shot, and an artistic angler, he had 

 wooed nature in her various moods, in all seasons, and in many 

 lands. Facing the east, he now stood, clad in a quiet fishing suit of 

 gray tweed, surmounted by a broad-brimmed hat of drab felt, the 

 smoke from his briar-root pipe wreathing gracefully above his head 

 like a halo before it was borne away on the early morning air. 



Meanwhile, Ignatius, his companion and disciple, was busily 

 engaged in bringing out to the veranda the rods, creels, tackle- 

 cases, landing-nets, lunch-basket, and other necessaries for a day's 

 fishing. 



" Luke is coming with the wagon, Professor," said he, as a well- 

 groomed span of bays to a light wagonette came dashing around 

 the corner of the house. 



After depositing the various articles in the wagon, Ignatius took 

 the reins, the Professor climbed up beside him with the rod-cases, 

 while the' colored man Luke, with a sigh, gave up the ribbons and 

 took a back seat. 



