The Wages of Sin 



Here is a sparkling boy story from the pen of 

 Mr. Harry Lyons, of Evanston, Illinois. My friend 

 Harry has fished all over the continent and is the 

 real quill at the ancient game. He says: "You 

 have ' boy ' readers, and they can understand the 

 black horror of the awful moment I have attempted 

 to describe." Yea, yea, Harry and the big boys too. 



Most tragic moment while fishing? Who has not 

 had them galore while following that most absorbing 

 of pastimes? And how does one select from mem- 

 ory's record the one superlative thrill of disappoint- 

 ment? Tis difficult, very difficult, indeed. 



Shall I recount the near tragedy of the strenuous 

 halibut which took Captain McDermitt out of the stern 

 of a skiff into the icy waters of the outer bay of 

 Chignik, Alaska? That was indeed tragic, and al- 

 though having no more serious climax than the ruina- 

 tion of the reckless sea-dog's jewel-studded watch, 

 might well have made codfish bait of him. 



Or shall I tell of the leaky skiff that sank under 

 the writer while a lusty bass required exclusive atten- 

 tion and prevented any bailing of the boat one mem- 



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