A FISHING FORAY. 



A. WHISNART. 



The Blacksmith, the Merchant, the 

 Schoolmaster and the Superintendent de- 

 cided one day last summer that they would 

 take a much needed rest. They proposed 

 to recreate their jaded minds and bodies 

 on the banks of the West branch of the 

 Wolf, in the reservation of the noble Me- 

 nominees, and catch the festive trout of 

 that dancing stream. 



Two days were spent in provisioning 

 the wagon which was to convey them to 

 their desire. Foragers were sent to make 

 nocturnal raids on neighboring hen roosts 

 and inroads were made on vegetable gar- 

 dens in the suburbs. The Blacksmith 

 pawned his sledge hammer ; the School- 

 master his cane ; the Merchant gave a 

 chattel mortgage on his dog; and the Su- 

 perintendent sold his spare shirt. With 

 the joint capital thus acquired, they bought 

 various things, solid, fluid, and spirituous ; 

 all "conducive to the internal, external, and 

 eternal welfare of man. They awoke 

 from peaceful dreams of big fish about 3 

 o'clock Friday morning, and just as the 

 sun gilded the East the 4 disappeared into 

 the dark forests of the. reservation. 



There is a road running through that 

 fastness of the aborigines. At least there 

 is a tradition that there was once a road, 

 and that men drove horses to and fro 

 thereon beneath the murmuring pines and 

 hemlocks. The 4 admit that perhaps a 

 road used to run there, but assert that it 

 long ago ran elsewhere and has not re- 

 turned. 



The Blacksmith mounted the driver's 

 seat because he had once driven a mule 

 on a tow path and knew more about the 

 business than the rest of the party. He 

 requested the Schoolmaster and the Su- 

 perintendent to lead the way and chop fal- 

 len trees from the road. He was chop- 

 fallen himself before we got 2 miles into 

 the woods. The Merchant followed and 

 gathered up the sunbeams which were 

 strewn along the way, together with the 

 rods, bait cans, cooking utensils, etc., 

 which leaped for joy from the wagon box 

 to the ground. The Blacksmith's stento- 

 rian "Whoa !" as 3 wheels of the wagon 

 went over the same stone, would occa- 

 sionally shatter the stillness of the morn- 

 ing, while the sound of the woodman's 

 ax beat time to the songs the Merchant 

 sang behind the band wagon. All songs 

 sung by the party are copyrighted and can 

 not be reproduced here ; but will be fur- 

 nished on application, enclosing 10 cents, 

 to The Merchant, Mattoon, Wis. 



Tree after tree was chopped from the 

 way and several rods of corduroy con- 

 structed ere the party stood on the banks 

 of the Wolf, lost in admiration of the 

 scene before them. The Merchant repeat- 

 ed a poem adapted to the occasion, while 

 the Blacksmith, Schoolmaster and Super- 

 intendent compared blisters and thought 

 hard thoughts. It was decided that the 

 Blacksmith and Superintendent remain 

 and patch the tent while the Schoolmaster 

 and Merchant should catch fish enough for 

 the next meal. When the sun had reached 

 the zenith they returned, bearing between 

 them 4 fish just out of the nursery. 



The Blacksmith claims to have prepared 

 the meal, but all he was really guilty of 

 doing was burning some bacon. The 

 Merchant made the coffee, the Schoolmas- 

 ter set the table, and the Superintendent 

 superintended. After a portion of the 

 good goods had been demolished, the 

 Blacksmith introduced to the party an old 

 friend of his, a beneficent jinnee, sealed 

 up by Solomon's Sons at Moonshine, Ky. 



After singing a hymn, they departed 

 each into his own place at the stream, 

 agreeing to return to camp when the sun 

 was low. The Merchant was in first, car- 

 rying his basket heavily laden with 2 

 trout. The Schoolmaster came next with 

 7, then the Blacksmith with 13, and the 

 Superintendent with 31. 



By the time supper was over, the sun 

 had sunk behind the Western pines, the 

 owl was calling in the distance, and a choir 

 of mosquitoes sang merrily about the tent. 

 The little stars came out one by one, and 

 their reflections danced in the stream. 

 The night was perfect. Around the camp- 

 fire the party sang songs and told stories 

 until the mosquitoes forced them into the 

 . tent, where on a bed of boughs they slept 

 the sleep of the just. The tent grew 

 warm. The School-master went out, 

 breathed the fresh air, gazed on the stars, 

 listened to the sighing pines, got bit bv 

 103 mosquitoes, went back in the tent and 

 perspired. Silence reigned supreme save 

 when the Blacksmith moaned as a hem- 

 lock butt rasped his spine. Suddenly the 

 sweet voice of the Merchant arose in 

 beautiiul.jiadence, ■ "I feel like hel-ping 

 mother.'"' Then one by one they dropped 

 asleep. 



The next day found them early astir and 

 at the trout stream. Twelve o'clock 

 brought them to camp with 90 fish, all told. 

 After dinner the tent was struck and prep- 

 arations made for departure; at 4 o'clock 

 the party was on the road home. 



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