Dec. 30, 1898.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



861 



WOMAN ON THE STREAM. 



SCIENCE vs. SUCCESS. 



Dr Derby, pastor of the First Church, in one of the 

 Western cities, besides being a scholar of no mean repu- 

 tation and a successful city pastor, is an ardent sports- 

 man and a devout disciple of Izaak Walton, patron saint 

 of all good anglers. No stream so tortuous that the 

 Doctor can not thread the thicket-hung labyrinth, and no 

 snug retreat of the wary trout is so close hidden but that 

 he will send a fly fluttering temptingly through the 

 smallest opening. 



Last summer when the star of vacation rose above the 

 horizon of expectancy, the Doctor began to harangue his 

 wife after this fashion: "Marian, I truly believe that 

 fishing is the recreation which has in it more practical 

 lessons, for the minister at least, than any other. Now, 

 in fishing I must use different bait for different localities 

 and different days. It's just so in preaching. There 

 must be different presentations of truth in order to reach 

 minds of totally opposite types." 



Or he would say: "I store up in my mind more beau- 

 tiful pictures to illustrate my sermons, that I gather in 

 my trouting expedition, than I get from any other source." 



Mrs. Derby was not so sanguine as to the exceptional 

 virtues of her husband's piscatorial sport, and would 

 sometimes remark that, to her, it seemed a cruel proceed- 

 ing to drag a fish 



bait, and in her effort to throw it as far as possible in to the 

 dark eddy that swirled under the boughs of a fallen tree, 

 succeeded in winding her line two or three times around 

 a dead branch that overhung the stream. 



There was nothing for the Doctor to do but to wade 

 back, and with one unceremonious jprk reclaim the rod 

 from its unfavorable connection, leaving 20 't. of lino, an 

 Aberdeen hook and two very uncomfortable worms 

 swinging high and dry above the water. He accepted 

 the situation very gracefully, however, and in reply to 

 Mj's. Derby's apology for causing him the trouble, said 

 cheerfully: "O, that's no matter, my dear. I've done 

 that before, myself. Only I didn't suppose you could 

 throw so far." 



Then, without causing an unnecessary ripple, he waded 

 cautiously to the other shore and resumed fishing. 



Then there was silence for a few minutes. Mrs. Derby 

 was watching the beautiful changes of sunlight and 

 shadow on the wooded bank beyond, and their reflec- 

 tion in the swift flowing brown stream at her feet; she 

 noticed, too, the imdulating flight of two yellowbirds that 

 chased each other across the field. There was more of 

 the artist than sportsman in Mrs. Derby's make-up. 

 When she had occasion to think of her hook, lo, she 

 drew it up bare and shining! 



Then she called to her husband, "John," No reply. 

 "0, John." 



"Well?" came in muifled tones from the other side. 

 "Something has taken my bait. What shall I do?" 



from the water by the 

 mouth. This was 

 enough to call down 

 upon her head a 



, lengthy scientific dis- 

 course, in which the 

 good Doctor proved to 

 his own satisfaction 

 that the fish being of 



' a lower order of cre- 

 ation had not the sen- 

 sitiveness of nerve pos- 

 sessed by the higher 

 types, and so the pain 

 suffered was nothing, 

 a mere trifle, etc. So . 

 when the first of July 



' drew near and tlie 



I exodus to the cooler 

 country began the 



' Doctor gathered to- 

 gether his old clothes 

 and rubber boots, his 

 mackintosh and slouch 



r hat, and with what 



i would have seemed to 

 the uninitiated an 

 endless array of i-ods, 

 lines, reels, floats, 

 sinkers, fish baskets 

 and bait boxes, hooks 

 of all sizes, and Hies 

 of every kind known 

 to an entymologist, set 

 out for the region of 

 Michigan where trout 

 do most abound, ac- 

 companied by Mrs. 

 Derby. 



They found a pleas- 

 ant boarding place at 

 an old farmhouse 

 which was conveni- 

 ently near a beautiful 

 trout stream. The 

 afternoon of their ar- 

 rival the Doctor spent 

 in getting his equip- 

 ment in perfect work- 

 ing order, and by sun- 

 rise the next morning, clad in a nondescript garb that 

 would have wrung with sorrow the hearts of his fastid- 

 ious parishioners, he started on an all-day's expedition, 

 returning at nightfall, tired but triumphant, with a 

 basketful of scarlet and orange mottled fish. 



For the next week or two he scoured the trout brooks 

 for miles around. No day was too long that he spent 

 engaged in his favorite sport. He made it a rule that if 

 the fish did not bite he would stay until they did, while if 

 they bit, of course he must stay until they stopped. The 

 result was that his wife spent many anxious hours after 

 nightfall awaiting his return. And there was this 

 peculiarity about the Doctor's constitution, when he was 

 able to report a good catch he was never tired, but if 

 fortune had not smiled upon him, and he returned 

 with an empty basket, he was well-nigh , exhausted, and, 

 naturally, wifely pity for his fatigue overcame any dis- 

 position Mrs. Derby might have felt to rally him on the 

 result. 



The vacation was drawing to a close, when he began to 

 urge his wife to join him in an expedition which he 

 promised her to be one long afternoon of delight. They 

 would get a horse and carriage and drive to a f armliouse 

 nearest the best fishing point, and from there follow the 

 little river through the field to "the holes" where lurked 

 the biggest fish. He was sure she would catch something, 

 but if not he would show her how to catch trout scien- 

 tifically! 



After some cautious inquiries about snakes and mos- 

 quitoes, Mrs. Derby consented, and one afternoon when 

 the temperature was perfect, the wind favorable, and the 

 water "just right." they started fully equipped to play 

 havoc With the denizens of "the holes." 



A short drive and a shorter walk brought them to the 

 desired point, and the Doctor began to fit up a cane rod 

 for his wife with line, hook and a tempting bait of 

 writhing angleworm. Then he drew an old log to the 

 bank for a seat, showed her where to cast her hook, and 

 proceeded to prepare his own outfit, an elegant steel rod, 

 with automatic reel and braided sUk line, talking all the 

 time in this exultant strain: "Couldn't have a better 

 day. Just cloudy enough. Water not too clear. Had a 

 bite yet? O, well, be patient. Watch me, and I'U show 

 you how in a minute. Here we go!" And pulling up 

 his high rubber boots, he waded across to a favorite spot 

 .on the opposite side. 



Mrs. Derby at this time thought it fitting to re-cast her 



ON A CALTFORNIA TROUT STREAM. 

 Amateur photo by A. G. McFarland. 



"Bait your hook," was the brief reply. 



"But you know, John, I can't touch those worms. Be- 

 sides, you have them all with you." 



This argument was convincing, because, very unfor- 

 tunately, true. So back he came, and with scant cere- 

 mony to the worms fastened them to the hook, returning 

 again to his vantage on the other shore. 



Quiet on either bank. Then Mrs. Derby called softly, 

 "John, see how completely that grapevine has covered 

 that old cedar." 



"Yes." 



"Just notice those cardinal flowers near you! What 

 splendid color!" 



No reply. The Doctor's eyes were fixed on his line, 

 which had quivered ever so slightly. With a quick jerk 

 he began to reel in a fish which plunged wildly from side 

 to side and finally leaped into the air and with a vicious 

 shake loosened the hook and was off like lightning for 

 parts unknown. But the Doctor rebaited his hook and 

 fished on with renewed courage. 



Presently Mrs. Derby called excitedly, "O, John, I've 

 got a fish! What shall I do with it? O, poor thing! 

 What is it, John?" 



"Sucker," was the curt reply, followed by brief direc- 

 tions how to remove the hook. Mrs. Derby followed 

 them with many sighs and exclamations of pity, finally 

 released the prisoner — and threw it back into the water. 



"What did you do that for?" cried her husband, im- 

 patiently, "Why, Marian, they destroy more trout spawn 

 than anything else! Kill them every time." 



"O," said Mrs. Derby, meekly, "I did not know. Iwill 

 next time." Presently she said, plaintively, "John, that 

 fish took all my bait." 



"WeU," was the unfeehng reply, "put some more on. I 

 left some worms for you in that little red box." 



Mrs. Derby looked at him reproachfully, but finally 

 decided that it was too bad to insist on his wading the 

 sti-eam again, and so providing herself wit i a small stick, 

 she began poking around in the moist earth for a worm. 

 They were rolled together in a snug ball and it was with 

 difficulty she separated one from his squirming brethren. 

 Him she held firmly to a smooth log with the stick, while 

 with the other hand she worked the hook in as best she 

 covdd, taking care that the wriggling thing should not 

 come in contact with her fingers. This proceeding she 

 accompanied by a sort of recitation: "Come out, there. 

 What makes them stick together so? On, so; there's one! 



O, what shall I do with him? O, dear, how he AvigglesI 

 Ah-h-h, the slimy thing! I wonder which is the head. 

 O, how it must hurt! John, I know this is wicked. Dear, 

 dear, I'd rather not fish." 



But she threw the object of commiseration into the 

 stream, and in her relief began to chat with the motion- 

 less figure opposite, only to be interrupted by a low- 

 voiced and ominously polite, "Marian, I must request 

 you not to attempt to carry on a conversation just at this 

 time. Any noise disturbs the fish." 



After this left-handed compliment to her conversational 

 abilitioH, Mrs. Derby maintained an indignant silence. 



Presently the Doctor concluded to try fly-fiahing. So 

 he adjixsted two or three gaudy specimens to his line, and 

 standing knee-deep in the swift water, began casting to 

 right and left with deftness and precision. Whir-r-r 

 went the lithe rod through the air with that pecidiar 

 hum that tells of an expert hand at the butt. One, two, 

 three — five trout rose txs meet the enemy that in time 

 overcame their struggling, and slipped them into the 

 basket at his side. 



The Doctor was flushed with victory and exercise. He 

 beamed at his wife who had been watching his prowess 

 with pardonable pride. 



"They're here, Marian," he announced, "only they're 

 not biting worms to-day. Too bad you can't fiy-fish. 

 Now, there's a big fellow in this hole. I saw him the 

 other day. I think he lies under that big cedar. I'll put 

 on a Seth-Green and try him. How's your bait? AU 



right?" 



"Yes," answered 

 Mrs. Derby, as she 

 lifted her rod enough 

 to see that one or two 

 tag ends of her angle- 

 worm still remained, 

 "Go ahead, John," 

 and the good man be- 

 gan to whip the stream 

 with redoubled vigor. 



Mrs. Derby was 

 watching him when 

 she felt a sharp puU at 

 ■ her line and Ufted it a 

 little, expecting to land 

 another sucker. Not 

 so. With a surge to 

 the right and a plunge 

 to the left a fish rose 

 to the surface, show- 

 ing a broad side of 

 shimmering rose color, 

 and then dashed under 

 water again. Mrs. 

 Derby grasped her rod 

 in both hands and be- 

 gan the struggle to 

 raise him, when at- 

 tracted by the splash 

 Dr. Derhy turned to- 

 ward her. He took 

 in the situation at a 

 glance. 



"Let him have it!" 

 he shouted, "Play him! 

 Hold him steady! Give 

 him his head! Don't 

 give him an inch of 

 slack! Play him, I 

 tell you! Give him 

 line! He'll get off I 

 Tire him out! Bring 

 him up now! Oh-hl" 

 The last exclamation 

 was one of positive 

 pain. Goaded to des- 

 peration by his unia- 

 telligible directions, 

 Mrs. Derby had Ufted 

 the gleaming fish high 

 into the air, and with one mighty lunge it had broken 

 the rod about a foot from the tip, and fallen again into 

 the water. But all was not lost. The line held fast 

 below, and with the energy of despair Mrs. Derby threw 

 the line over her shoulder and ran up the bank, dragging 

 her trophy beyond all possibility of escape. 



Then the Doctoi plunged into the stream regardless of . 

 ripples, and strode up the bank to where his wife stood, 

 flushed and breathless above the shining fish. Not a word 

 did he say until he drew a foot rule from his pocket and 

 measured the splendid capture from nose to tail, and from 

 back to belly. Then he straightened up and looked sternly 

 at his wife. "Nineteen inches by five," said he. "Weighs 

 3lbs. if it weighs an ounce. Marian, that fish died of 

 mortification at being handled so barbarously!" 



And that was all the praise she got for her magnificent 

 catch. And he never asked her to go fishing again. 



Ida Reed Smith. 



FISHERWOMAN. 



Happily we are not all alike in our habits and tastes, 

 or I should make fishers of all women, and the streams 

 would soon be cleared of the finny tribe. 



In these days of ambitious womanhood it is a surprise 

 to me that more women do not fish. They shoot, ride, 

 drive all sorts of rigs, and practice many more quite as 

 manly sports— not excepting cricket. Why not fish? 



But they do fish, some one wiU say. Perhaps. Let us 

 draw a picture. A bright, hot day in July when fish 

 should bite — a pretty girl seated by a broad expanse of 

 water — straw hat enough to cover two — a pair of gloved 

 hands— -and by her, loimging, trying to think he is happy, 

 Ues her best young man. Is not that a sorry sight, and 

 yet I have seen it time and time again; and she, poor 

 child, fancies she is fishing, and tells her inquiring friend, 

 "I never could catch a fish if I sat here a week;" and un- 

 consciously she will tell the truth. 



Now, let us change the picture to a year later. In the 

 interval this same girl has met a fisherman, who has told 

 her how he has a rod that only weighs 5oz. , and a book of 

 flies. Oh! such beauties that she shall see and further- 

 more learn to use if he may be her teacher. 



The girl with the rest of her family are just now in the 

 mountains not many miles from the city of Brotherly 

 Love, and the young man has come to fulfill his promise 

 of the winter. 



