That Soul-Harrerrin' Happenin 5 



Now, boys, light up your pipes and settle down for 

 a great black bass story. Mr. Frank Whitman, 

 of Tampa, Florida, has here spun a yarn that will 

 get into your blooming vitals. He has entitled it 

 " That Soul-Harrerrin' Happenin' " and it's every 

 bit of that and more. Don't expect too much in the 

 beginning but hang on and keep a tight line every 

 minute, for here is some sure 'nuff fishing tale. 



Folks, I have bin so close to that eternal fame that 

 once in a million years flits like a fleetin' shadder over 

 the places where men go to ketch fish that there 

 everlastin' reppitation that makes talk when men con- 

 gergate 'round the evenin's campfire was so durn nigh 

 mine that I'm never goin' to look the same in this here 

 wide, wide worl.' What d'ye think of a happenin' that 

 causes four strong men in boats to take off their hats 

 an' sit kinda friz up, like they was listenin' to the clods 

 fallin' on a box containin' some dear departed friend? 

 What d'ye think of a nerve-numbin' thing that causes 

 the party o' the first part t' git out of a boat on wobbly 

 laigs an* stagger up a hill with the sweet refrain, " It 

 mighta bin," soundin' like a dirge by Sowsie's band? 

 What d'ye think but I must be ca'm, ef I'm goin' 



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