13 



tween my teeth, using my right hand to give a 

 good push to clear the boughs, when "zip, zip!" 

 a beauty seized my bait as I floated out. I got 

 nervous, upset my canoe and rolled into the water, 

 but waded on shore and landed my fish. He 

 weighed four pounds, seven ounces, live weight, 

 and I have his head and tail and a clear con- 

 conscience to prove it. 



The last half day of the season I was fishing at 

 Milton Lake, and I caught eighteen fine bass, and 

 two eels, the latter as large round as a policeman's 

 club and as dirty and slimy as usual. Eels always 

 remind me of a skinny circus contortionist. When 

 I am unfortunate enough to hook one, 1 generally 

 make a clean cut of two yards of silk line, hook 

 and all, and tie him up to the fence, or bow stay of 

 my canoe. I would willingly let all of them go again 

 only from a lingering remnant of a boyish super- 

 stition that they would go and tell all the bass 

 how horribly indigestible my bait was. 



I remember catching a big snapping turtle, 

 weighing about twelve pounds, in the lake one 

 day. When I pulled it up, my companion 

 grabbed it, and I really think I would have jumped 

 overboard but for the fear that others might be 

 around to make things more pleasant for me for 

 jumping " from the frying pan into the fire." I 

 suppose a salt-water fisherman would have yelled 

 and danced for joy ; I am not built that way. 

 When I fish for bass, I want bass, and when I fish 

 for turtles No ! I would not want them even then. 



