GBORGE RAY NOR. 159 



"ling/* and has several names besides that of Lota, which 

 the scientists have taught us to believe is its true name- 

 Twirling the sinkers vertically, and letting go at the 

 proper time, we cast our bait as far as possible from the 

 breakwater and hauled in hand under hand, and a good- 

 sized pike perch or a big eel-pout made quite a fight at 

 the end of a long line. Even the common yellow perch 

 ran larger than we were accustomed to see them, and we 

 green Eastern boys voted it the finest fishing we ever 

 had. 



Mr. Raynor told me that there was very good fishing 

 in the South Branch of the Chicago River near where he 

 lived on Van Beuren street. Those who only know the 

 Chicago River as it is now may doubt this statement, for 

 in its black and ill-smelling water a self-respecting mud 

 turtle would decline to live. Yet I ask to be believed 

 when I say that many good fish were taken from the 

 docks in the South Branch by myself and others forty- 

 four years ago. As a rule, the fish were not as large 

 as those taken in the lake, and just what kinds they were 

 is partly forgotten, but yellow perch were plenty, and so 

 were small dogfish Amia. These latter even the om- 

 nivorous Pete could not eat, although he pronounced the 

 eel-pout "Pooty goot." 



The old gentleman was greatly pleased when I called 

 at his house for him to go and fish. He said : "It is very 

 good of you to come for me; very few care to bother 

 with a man when he is no longer young and is nearly 

 blind. I often think I've stayed here too long, and only 

 for Billy " 



I interrupted with: "Yes, Billy is a good boy, one in 

 a thousand, and you may be proud of such a devoted 

 son." Then he was led from that depressing line of 

 thought by a story of a deer hunt in northern New York, 



