THE BLA CK BASSES. 
6 3 
I have already often quoted the opinions of that wisest of anglers, 
Charles Hallock, and I cannot otherwise than repeat in this place his 
prophecy concerning the future estate of the Black Bass. 
“ No doubt the Bass is the appointed successor of the trout; not througn 
heritage, nor selection, nor by interloping, but by foreordination. Truly, 
it is sad to contemplate, in the not distant future, the extinction of a 
beautiful race of creatures, whose attributes have been sung by all the 
poets ; but we regard the inevitable with the same calm philosophy with 
which the astronomer watches the burning out of a world, knowing that 
it will be succeeded by a new creation. 
“As we mark the soft vari-tinted flush of the trout disappear in the even¬ 
tide, behold the sparkle of the coming Bass as he leaps into the morning 
of his glory ! We hardly know which to admire the most—the velvet 
livery and the charming graces of the departing courtier, or the flash of 
the armor-plates on the advancing warrior. The Bass will unquestionably 
prove himself a worthy substitute for his predecessor, and a candidate for 
a full legacy of honors. 
“ No doubt, when every one of the older States shall become as densely 
settled as Great Britain itself, and all the rural aspects of the crowded 
domain resemble the suburban surroundings of our Boston; when every 
feature of the pastoral landscape shall wear the finished appearance of 
European lands ; and every verdant field be closely cropped by lawn- 
mowers and guarded by hedges ; and every purling stream which meanders 
through it has its water-bailiff, we shall still have speckled trout from 
which the radiant spots have faded, and tasteless fish, to catch at a dollar 
per pound (as we already have on Long Island), and all the appurtenances 
and appointments of a genuine English trouting privilege and a genuine 
English ‘ outing. ’ 
“ In those future days, not long hence to come, some venerable piscator, 
in whose memory still lingers the joy of fishing, the brawling stream which 
tumbled over the rocks in the tangled wildwood, and moistened the arbutus 
and the bunchberries which garnished its banks, will totter forth to the 
velvety edge of some peacefully-flowing stream, and having seated himself 
on a convenient point in a revolving easy chair, placed there by his care¬ 
ful attendant, cast right and left for the semblance of sport long dead. 
“ Hosts of liver-fed fish rush to the signal for their early morning meal, 
and from the center of the boil which follows the fall of the handfuls 
thrown in, my piscator of the ancient days will hook a two-pound Trout, 
and play him hither and yon, from surface to bottom, without disturbing 
the pampered gourmands which are gorging themselves upon the disgusting 
viands; and when he has leisurely brought him to hand at last, and the 
gillie has scooped him with his landing-net, he will feel in his capacious 
pocket for his last trade dollar, and giving his friend the tip, shuffle back 
to his house, and lay aside his rod forever.” 
