THE ANGLER'S GUIDE 



83 



There are four anglers in our party. All are supplied 

 with the very best of modern rods and tackle, but each 

 outfit is of a widely different character. 



We meet the bayman at the little hotel in Bay Shore, 

 one fine afternoon in late August, and he conducts us to 

 his smart sloop anchored in the creek a quarter of a mile 

 from the village. 



We go aboard and sail at once for the fishing spot, a 

 channel eddy out in the Great South Bay, where the Cap- 

 tain says he took a hundred bluefish the day before. 



"Now, genelmen, I says as we won' do much teh-day," 

 drawls our guide on the way out of the creek, "but we're 

 sure teh ketch anuff teh brile fer supper, an' we'll protec' 

 th' place fer teh-morrow when there'll be a plenty of t'other 

 boats afloat." 



It is the old man's intention to fish the last hour of the 

 high tide to-day, and be nicely located and fully equipped 

 to work two tides to-morrow an hour before, an hour 

 during, and an hour after each tide, six hours of play in 

 the day. 



One of the party, little skilled in salt water methods, 

 but an all-proficient angler in fresh water, puts out a 

 blackbass trolling spoon at the stern of the sloop, but we 

 soon discourage this by explaining to him that he will 

 catch nothing beyond eel grass. 



Bay Shore, Long Island, yew York. 



