3H 



RECREATION. 



she got brain like a hog, all time contrary." 



I said, 



"How can you think that, Jock? You're 

 crazy." 



"No! What is made of — dat line ? Silk, 

 ain't it? Yes. Bien oui. Silk is made by 

 a worm ; de worm have life, certainment. 

 Where goes dat life, when dat worm she 

 die? Into de silk, to be sure, n'est ce pas? 

 Now dat silk she's twist an' turn an' 'bused 

 like ole diablc, and her temper she's ruin 

 pour tou jours — always. She's mad when 

 somebody make fishline, and she swear re- 

 venge. Look dat slob !" 



"But," I said, "Jock:, the line was not to 

 blame for that tangle. I made a poor cast, 

 and the fish did the rest. A fishline can't 

 think. It has no brain." 



"Ah! moil ami, ecoutcz," he retorted. 

 "Ze tree, ze corn, have mind. How de tree 

 knew when is de spring come, to put out 

 leaf? How de corn know when you have 

 drop in de groun', which way to sen' de 

 root, which way sen' de top? She make no 

 mistake. De root go en bas ev'ry temps, 

 sure ! De silk line, she's en colere, trite, 

 mad, and she make troub' when she get 

 some chance. Yes, sir-r-e. 'S'pose you have 

 big .fish on your line. Maybe he run in de 

 weed. Dat line help tangle in de weed, in 

 de dead branch ; get on sharp stone, saw 

 in two, de fish get away. De line say, 

 'revanche — revenge, and de fish — gone ! 

 'S'pose you keep him out de weed, den he'll 

 run under de boat. What de line do? 

 Scrape along de bottom of dat boat, huntin' 

 for sliver. Maybe she find one. De line 

 squeeze into dat sliver, and laugh loud — 

 you hear it dis time — squeal kin' o' laugh, 

 an' snap go you line. Fifteen, maybe 30 

 poun' good fish meat gene, and you' No. 10 

 skinner spoon — 'nother dollar gon', too ! 



"De silk line hunt up more place for get 

 hitch an' tangle you never see. Nail head 

 in de run' board, row lock ; sliver in de 

 oar; handle of de minnow bucket; tackle 

 box cover or some odder t'ing what lies on 

 the thwart. She like best w'en she can get 

 into a tree top an' twis' roun' some lim', 

 too high too reach wid peddle, too old to 

 climb, an' too big to break. Den dat line 

 she's happy." 



The sermon was supnlemented by Jock's 

 usual hymn, "Malbrook," etc. 



DEAD FISH IN WHITE RIVER. 

 One day in the summer of 1903 a tele- 

 phone message came to the Indiana State 

 Board of Health office, telling of tons of 

 dead fish in the old bed of the river near 

 Waverly, a village on White river, about 

 18 miles below Indianapolis. A deputy 

 State health officer and 1 were soon on the 

 spot, and beheld a sight and smelled a smell 

 the like of which we had never before 

 known. A little wet weather creek ended 



at the old bed of the river, a new bed hav- 

 ing been cut through the neck of a great 

 U bend. The old bed was open to the river 

 at its lower arm, and water backed into it 

 when the river was high, making a bayou. 



The wet weather creek was dry, and on 

 its bottom, laid in regular order, like the 

 bricks of a paved street, were thousands or 

 fish. They were mostly carp, all of good 

 size, with some suckers and a few bass and 

 sunfish. In the old river bed were great 

 numbers of dead fish, bloated and stinking, 

 floating on the stagnant water. 



"What killed them?" was asked by every 

 one. One farmer said it was refuse from 

 the strawboard mills. This theory was un- 

 tenable, because the nearest mill was 65 

 miles up the river, and there were no dead 

 fish between. If strawboard mill refuse had 

 caused the slaughter, the fishes up the river 

 above Indianapolis would have suffered. 

 Among the farmers standing near was one 

 who said he had noticed for 10 years that 

 whenever there was a slight rise in the 

 river the fish ran up the creeks and stuck 

 their noses above the water to get air. 

 Many dead fish were always found after a 

 slight rise. 



"There was a rise of about 18 inches dav 

 before yesterday," said the farmer. "I saw- 

 fish below here run up a creek, and I saw- 

 some with their noses above the water." 



By questioning, We learned that dead fish 

 in considerable numbers were in the river 

 below where we were, and that in time of 

 high floods the fish were not killed. It 

 was evident that some poison had come 

 from up the river, being pushed onward by 

 the rise above. It was almost certain that 

 the poison contained no air, and for this 

 reason the fish pushed their noses above the 

 surface. Gradually working up the river, 

 which is a succession of pools and shallows 

 of varying lengths and depths, we observed 

 that the water smelled worse as we ap- 

 proached Indianapolis. This smell was 

 plainly due to sewage. When we finally 

 entered, with our boat, the third pool be- 

 low the outlet of the Indianapolis sewer, 

 the offense was almost too great to bear. 

 Plainly, this pool and the 2 above, con- 

 tained thousands of barrels of sour, rot- 

 ting sewage. This contained great quan- 

 tities of poison, and the gases from 

 the fermentation had driven out the 

 air. This condition, with the facts noticed by 

 the farmer, furnished a tenable explanation 

 of the wholesale destruction of fish life. 

 The rise of the water pushed the poisonous 

 and airless sewage down the stream and 

 drove the fish before it. The fish, rushing 

 before the flood of sewage, went into the 

 old channel and followed up the creek, then 

 full of flood water. The fish went as far 

 as there was water to carry them and those 

 behind followed, arranging themselves side 



