192 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



Forest and Stream have sat in smudges, and have won- 

 dered whether it were nobler in the mind to suffer the 

 stings and poisons of tormenting 'skeeters or by smudg- 

 ing end them. "Smoke follows beauty/' is the adage; 

 but when sitting in a smudge of dry fungus we old cam- 

 paigners know that we are not beautiful because the 

 smoke dodges us. Sometimes it is a question whether 

 the insects are not to be preferred to smarting eyes, but 

 eventually the ayes have it, and more smudge is made. 



Our lunch was saved, and there was plenty of it but 

 the bread was soaked too much to use, the pies which 

 Mrs. Neaville had put in the basket had disintegrated, 

 and the ham and chicken had been eaten. We slapped 

 mosquitoes and roasted fish and shifted to keep in the 

 smoke. When the fish were cooked we ate supper. 



" Where's the salt?" asked Frank. 



Henry looked up and quietly said: "Frank, look in 

 the basket; you'll find the salt tied up in a rag; bring us 

 some;" and he never cracked a smile while his brother 

 held up the soaked rag, looked at it and threw it down. 

 "I never like salt on fish," said Henry; "it makes me 

 think they're not fresh." Frank and I ate fresh fish and 

 made no comment. After dinner Henry took his felt 

 hat, and went to the sloo and brought it up full of water. 

 Said he: "I always want a drink after a fish dinner, and 

 of all drinks in this world there's nothing like Mississippi 

 River water; it's rich food and drink, too and there's 

 no better place to get it than from Swift Sloo. Boys, 

 here's fun!" 



It was desirable to get our clothes on at the earliest 

 moment, so that there would be a minimum of cuticle 

 exposed to the enemy, and after dressing we could dry 

 the garments from the inside as well as by the fire; so we 

 dressed and dragged the boat ashore, turned it over and 



