470 
FOREST AND 
STREAM 
September, 1919 
AS TO THE WAYS OF THE PERCH 
THE FOURTH INSTALMENT OF A SERIES OF STORIES DEPICTING THE 
SIMPLE JOY OF FISHING AS EXEMPLIFIED THROUGH THE EYES OF YOUTH 
By LEONARD HULIT, Associate Editor of FOREST AND STREAM 
< < |\ /f -A-T-T-I-E,” called a voice from 
the back door of the cottage, 
several mornings after the cat- 
fish excursion. Then receiving no an- 
swer, “H-o Matt,” again sounded the 
voice. “All right” came back from some- 
where in the rear of the woodshed," be 
there in a minute,” and shortly after he 
came around through a back gate in a 
perturbed condition of mind, judging 
from his facial expression. He was bare- 
headed, and, ae usual, barefooted. His 
hair was tousled and streaks of dust cov- 
ered his face. “Beats all,” he began as 
soon as he faced his aunt, who had called 
him, “seems ’ough somebody’s been rum- 
magin’ all over our shed. Things are 
gone which was there on’y a day or two 
The fly net what Mr. Stillwell gave 
me’s gone an’ the tin blickey’s disap- 
peared too. Seen any boys moochin’ 
round,” h e 
queried. 
“No,I ain’t,” 
replied the 
aunt short- 
ly. “For 
land’s sake 
wash your 
face and 
eat your 
breakfast. 
I’ve been 
waiting 
more than 
half an 
hour. Your 
look like a 
chimney 
s w e e p.” 
The aunt, 
ordinarily 
quite cor- 
r e c t of 
speech, 
had a habit of dropping into the vernacu- 
lar of the period when a trifle upset in 
mind. “What about the fly net?” she 
asked. “Well, it’s gone,” he pouted; 
“don’t seem like anybody want it ’cept for 
what I did, anyhow, ’twas mine.” “I 
guess what’s around here will be used 
for what’s thought best, without asking 
questions,” said the aunt with some as- 
perity; “anyhow, the net is of no use as 
I can see, except where it is. I put it 
over the bed you fixed for my celery 
plants. If you’d looked there you’d a 
seen it.” “You’ll alius mostly see things 
if you look where they be,” he returned 
in a semi-rebellious tone, then realizing 
from the look on his aunt’s face that a 
truce from his side of the firing line was 
much the safer course, said in greatly 
mollified tones, “we’ll fix something there 
what’s as good.” “I caTlate that old net 
will stay where I put it,” she returned 
firmly, “and that about ends it. Cats or 
pigeons would have the ground scratched 
up in no time likely and the seeds with it. 
Besides what on earth do you want it 
for?” “Mr. Woodhull wanted to use it; 
said he had been lookin’ for somethin’ 
like it fjr some time; wants to make 
somethin’ out of it.” The boy carefully 
refrained from mentioning anything 
about fish or fishing at this critical 
period. The truth was the two had de- 
cided that if something of the sort could 
be procured by splitting a sapling part 
way down or find a properly branched 
one, a serviceable landing net might be 
constructed. That was the thing needed 
when in quest of perch or pickerel, par- 
ticularly when fishing from a boat. This 
was what he had in view when he begged 
the discarded, rather fine mesh fly net 
from their neighbor. By mentioning Mr. 
WoodhulTs name he thought that there 
might be a chance for surrender on the 
part of Aunt Mary in one way or an- 
other. If so there was no indication. 
judging from her manner at the conclu- 
sion of the meal. Diplomatic relations, 
however, must be opened. The mind of 
Matt was busy and fully absorbed by it 
when he took down the hoe and proceeded 
to the garden to do some necessary weed- 
ing. 
Aunt Mary was busy with her house- 
hold work and perhaps an hour had 
passed when, glancing through the open 
window, she saw Matt busily measuring 
the ground over which the net was drawn, 
and making sundry marks with the stub 
of a lead penf*’’ o" handle of his rake. 
She said nothing and went on with her 
work, but later, needing his help for 
something, she called to him without 
looking out. Receiving no answer she 
stepped to the door but the lad was no- 
where in sight. Then with a firm step 
and manner she proceeded to the shed 
where Matt was wont to spend much of 
his time among his much loved poles and 
other trappings. He was not there and 
a glance among his poles told her he had 
not gone fishing; in fact, he never did 
that without consulting her. But his 
spirit, as well as her own, was a trifle 
ruffled, and her stand about the net 
should be maintained. She was about to 
enter the house when, glancing down the 
road which led up from the woods below 
she saw Matt coming, part carrying, part 
dragging something which raised quite a 
dust as it trailed along. “What, for 
land’s sake, have you got now?” she 
queeried, as he came through the gate 
trailing a stretch of chicken wire behind 
him. She noticed it was close-meshed 
and pretty badly crumpled up. “I’m 
goin’ to nail this up to the back fence,” 
he answered as he busied himself 
straightening the mess out; “the’s cat 
tracks all over the garden an’ they get 
in where the wide slats is, what calls ’em 
in there I do’ know. You can see ’em all 
over,” he said, as the two walked down 
the garden 
path. And, 
true 
enough, the 
tracks were 
plainly to 
be seen in 
the mellow 
earth. Aunt 
Mary view- 
ed with sat- 
isfaction, 
but without 
comment 
the neat 
work the 
boy had 
made ear- 
lier in the 
day, hoeing 
the ve ge- 
tables, after 
which the 
rake had 
smoothed all. “Now, look there,” she 
said, as she came to her cherished 
celery plant, “something’s throwed the 
net part off. Maybe it’s the wind and 
she threw the disturbed portion back 
to its original position. “I must lay 
something on it, or if it was heavier,” 
she said, “I think it would be better. I 
believe a piece of that chicken wire you 
have dug up from the dump heap will 
be just the thing.” “T’wont more’n reach 
the stretch of back fence as it is now 
without cuttin’ it,” said Matt stoutly; 
“don’t seem to be no sense in cuttin’ it in 
two.” Aunt Mary made no reply but be- 
gan taking measurements of the plot of 
ground which, had she known it, was 
quite unnecessary, as she would have 
found by consulting the pencil marks on 
the handle of the rake. It was not more 
than three by five feet, just enough to 
start the celery plants from the seed for 
trenching later on. After which she 
straightened an ample section of the wire 
netting and with a heavy pair of shears 
began clipping the cross section. She 
