The White Sea-bass 17 
constant waiting that is sometimes the feature of 
the day’s luck, and thrusts his rod beneath his 
knee to read or drop asleep, is always a victim to 
poor luck, as by some occult eighth or ninth sense 
the fish invariably selects this exact moment to 
strike the bait, and it is always the largest fish 
which have this artful discernment. This is so 
infallible a rule, so well known among sea- 
anglers, that I have often changed my luck and 
forced a record fish to bite by merely dropping 
my rod into the oarlock, pretending to be engaged 
in some minor distraction. The moment I was 
thoroughly involved, my face deep in the folds of 
a coat, hoping to form a conjunction between 
cigar and match, the fish would strike; but it 
was a subterfuge, and before the fish had taken 
ten feet of line, I was ready for the play. I 
deduce from this that good luck means good and 
careful equipment, a good gaffer and boatman, 
good reels, lines, hooks, and the right kind of bait 
all the time; in a word, the application to fishing 
of the same rules which make one famous or suc- 
cessful in any phase of life. 
It is worth crossing the continent in June from 
New York to Avalon to sit on the veranda of 
the hotels and listen to the tuna anglers, at the 
Cc 
