Jamesie's Catch 



oars both with high hopes. Mine the highest, per- 

 haps, because I knew what was liable to happen. 



Within half an hour he had hooked, landed and put 

 back three or four bass of less than two pounds weight. 

 We do not keep bass of less than two pounds unless 

 badly hurt. Our live minnows did not seem to appeal 

 to the big fish, so I slipped on a small frog and instantly 

 we got action. From the way the fish took hold and 

 started away, I knew my partner would be busy. He 

 snubbed Mr. Bass at the proper moment and he started 

 for the weeds by going directly under the boat. I saw 

 the top of the rod on the wrong side of the boat with 

 the fish going strong. He broke water about sixty feet 

 away, coming out full length but fortunately failing to 

 hit the line as he fell back into the water. Of course 

 I had immediately moved the boat from over the line, 

 took a good long breath and settled back to enjoy 

 the fun ? Nix, to try and keep my mouth shut and my 

 hands off? 



Slowly and with much effort the lad reeled him in 

 only to have again and again to give out more line. 

 Twice the reel handle was jerked out of his hand but 

 all the time the tamarack rod was on the job and the 

 fish seemed safe and ours. Eventually, the fates 

 being kind, we took him in out of the wet. During 

 those ten or twelve minutes of mingled hopes and 

 fears I probably did more subdued, innocent cussin' 

 and earnest praying than were ever before combined. 



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