92 AMERICAN ANGLER'S BOOK. 



market for food," is an error so glaring, as to cause one to 

 suppose, that the explorations of the naturalist in question, 

 could not have extended south of New York. The same 

 author also says or implies, that its average size does not 

 exceed six or seven inches; by which he also evinced 

 his slight knowledge of this fish. Frank Forester, in his 

 book on angling, after a slight notice, dismisses it, as "not 

 sufficiently important to merit more particular notice." The 

 latter gentleman missed much, by not becoming acquainted 

 with our little friend Pallidus. In season, the White Perch 

 is the pan fish (and there is none better) of the Philadelphia, 

 Baltimore, Washington, Norfolk, and Eichmond markets. 

 And as for sport ; should it be said that a man or boy has no 

 sport, or is not an angler, because he does not use reel or 

 gut? Did not Billy Jones, the chair-maker, down town, 

 go a Perch-fishing four or five times every summer; shut- 

 ting up his shop for the day, and taking his wife, children, 

 and apprentices in his sailboat down the river — or in a 

 furniture car down the "Neck;" and with his brandling- worms 

 in an old coffee-pot, and his minnow-net and frying-pan, and 

 store of bread and butter and bottled ale, make a day of it ? 

 Did not " our Johr.ny" shoulder his reed-pole every Saturday 

 morning, when there was a run of Perch at Fairmount dam ; 

 and return at night with a string of them as long as his leg, 

 •" and his trousers smeared with shad-roe ? Is not Uncle Jim — 

 a respectable colored gentleman — who lives in a quiet nook 

 by the Curratoma, down in Old Virginia, always sure of a 

 mess of them ? And Old Davy, whose shanty is on the high 

 bluff, by the mouth of the Sassafras, does he not " count on 

 'em ?" And still the learned De Kay, and the eloquent Frank 

 Forester speak disparagingly or hardly notice this game 

 little fish, so intimately associated with the early, and happy 



