Cause for Cussin' 



Dr. B. F. Wilson writes from Golden City, Mis- 

 souri : " You dear old bass fishing promoter, I can't 

 resist the impulse to chip in on the Tragic Moment 

 game. Of course, we bass men all have many such 

 moments, but the humiliation and disappointment 

 that were mine on the occasion I here recount seem 

 to stick out more prominently than do any more 

 refined tragedy-comedies of later years." 



Time, happily, has a way of healing the smart of 

 humiliation and smoothing the asperities of many ex- 

 periences, else I would not care to recount this, to 

 me, tragic affair. The date, more distant than I care 

 to contemplate, was in my bait-fishing period of an- 

 gling growth. Three of us were camped at a deserted 

 mill site by a broken dam on Sac River, a consider- 

 able stream heading in the Ozark country. We had 

 had a surfeit of bass, jacksalmon and drum, and were 

 ready to welcome a suggestion that would add a bit 

 of adventure or variety to our activities. 



Tales by the natives of huge catfish to be caught 

 in the millpond prompted our efforts catward. These 

 same fighting cats, our tempters allowed, could not 

 be handled by our bait rods, reels and slender lines. 

 This was too much ; we'd show 'em. 



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