THE GREAT WHITE BASS 505 



Like wildfire, it ran through the eager 21 strand line. Many fish fell to our 



crowd. "Sixty and a half pounds!" rods that spring, but about the brow of 



The record was bettered by two and this gallant bass there rests a bright, 



a half pounds after standing all these sparkling halo in our memories, 



years. Though we may be wrong, yet we feel 



In length the bass was just five feet, that the present record will stand for a 



and was taken on regulation rod and day or two, anyway. 



DECEMBER 



By CAROLYN B. LYMAN 



The blue, blue haze lies o'er the fields, 

 So brown, beneath the cooler breeze, 

 The dim horizon's purple line 

 In now a fringe of leafless trees. 



The distant pine looms tall and grand, 

 And sighs, the summer is no more, 

 A king it stands, to meet the blasts 

 And snows that drift the valleys o'er. 



The blackbirds fly in larger flocks 

 To winter homes, and warmer climes 

 They settle, black upon the fields 

 Then sweep away, as sweep the winds. 



The lowland view is dotted o'er 

 With cattle grazing here and there, 

 And sifting snow flakes slowly fall 

 To float upon the chilling air 



