June 21, 1913 
FOREST AND STREAM 
779 
Fishin’ With ’er Jonah 
By MIQUE WEBB 
not be used as a toler. Only this year distemper 
in its most virulent type destroyed a number of 
these dogs, including valuable bitches, together 
with their young litters. I am so fortunate as 
to own a dog and two bitches, and shall try 
to perpetuate the breed. This grand dog should 
be carefully bred and given a class at the dog 
shows, for he certainly is, on account of his 
toling ability, in a class all his own. 
Humor in the Daily News. 
A TR.4PSH00TER, more or less prominent, of 
course not attending the G. A. H., pulled the 
bell rope on a Cincinnati trolley because he said 
he was “tired of being a perpendicular sardine.” 
In court the railroad lawyer said insinuatingly: 
“Are you a drinking man, Mr. Blank?” “That’s 
my business,” said the ballistic exponent, with 
necessary dignity. “Right,” said the lawyer. 
“Now tell the court, Mr. Blank, if you have any 
other business.” Ballistics exploded. 
Secretary of Commerce Redfield approves 
the plan to reduce the high cost of living on 
the Pacific coast by introducing Eastern lobsters 
into Western waters. Good enough, sir. We 
might ask the commissioner if he ever had been 
in sin-sin-nati. Plenty of lobsters over the 
Rhine. 
Philadelphia, Pa., June 5.—Howard E. 
Busby, local agent for an Anglesea fish company, 
while cleaning a fish this morning, found a dia¬ 
mond ring valued at about $250 securely caught 
in its gills. Sounds more like a spearing than 
a diamond ring. 
New York, May 21 .—John Wilson, a farmer 
living near Caldwell, N. J., was knocked down 
by a wild deer yesterday, and was rendered un¬ 
conscious for several minutes. He had a gash 
in his face from the animal’s hoofs which re¬ 
quired several stitches. Sounds as though the 
need of stitches in the deer-foot must have been 
caused by a hard object—strong suspicion of a 
bone head here. 
The steamship Bermudian (which was no 
press agent) arrived recently from Bermuda with 
a yarn about a fifty-foot whale that was killed 
by a thrasher shark and a swordfish 406 miles 
south-southeast of Sandy Hook. Captain Frazier, 
through binoculars, saw the marine buccaneers 
tackle the whale off the ship’s starboard bow 
(the narrative is as specific as one of Captain 
John Smith’s). While the thrasher, which has 
a tail as long as its body, was using it, flail like, 
on the whale, the swordfish was running the 
whale through and through. And when the 
swordfish sheathed its sword and the thrasher 
coiled up its tail, the sea was red with the blood 
of the whale. But presently along came a 
monster electric eel, readily detected by the wire¬ 
less operator, who felt a shock the moment the 
eel hove in sight, and wrapping its tail around 
the tail of the shark and fastening its teeth on 
the sword of the swordfish, it turned on its cur¬ 
rent. Exit leviathan. All whales in line of 
Bermuda steamers now carry lightning rods. 
In chniiripo- pt'dre-s. the old as well as the 
new should 1 e given. 
D id you ever go fishin’ with a Jonah—a scien¬ 
tific Jonah? I did once, and I would like 
to go with another if I was assured as 
much fun as I had with this one. We caught 
no fish, or rather anything my scientific friend 
would call a fish. 
But let’s define what a real Jonah is. Re¬ 
ferring to the Bible I find that Jonah was a 
gentleman that God had selected to perform a 
certain mission; but being a coward, he decided 
to run away and—presumably—go ’er fishin’, for 
he sneaked into a fishing boat, that was lying at 
anchor, and hid himself. God was angry at his 
action, and when the ship had sailed out into 
the sea, he caused a great storm to come upon 
the waters, thus intending to punish Jonah. The 
boat’s crew, being superstitious, began to look 
for the cause of the storm. They found Jonah 
—a stowaway—hidden in the hold of their vessel. 
They questioned him and found out all, and 
after casting lots, they were sure they had the 
right man, for Jonah was elected. To pacify 
God, they threw him into the sea. The balance 
of the story is too familiar to chronicle, hence I 
jump to my deductions and conclusions—a Jonah 
is a person who goes to catch fish, but instead 
is caught by the fish. And again, it is applied 
to a fellow who brings hard luck. 
My friend was a Jonah, but I didn’t know 
it. They look just like other people. They wear 
no sign to give them away. He came into my 
office one hot, sweltering July day and wanted 
me to go fishing with him the next day. It was 
one of those gleamy, dreamy, lazy, hazy days 
on which one had rather go to sleep than do any¬ 
thing else. I felt that way. I didn’t want to 
go fishing. I expressed myself that way, but 
Mr. Jonah Scientific would not listen. After a 
time, with his smooth tongue and scientific gab. 
he awakened my interest, and I decided to go. 
He was one of those fellows who did every¬ 
thing by rule. He applied science, and to hear 
him tell it, he was an expert. He could shoot 
the head off a flying quail. He could hook a 
fish in the right jaw, left jaw, upper or lower, 
and could tell you before the fish came out of 
the water just where the hook was set. This 
was all wonderful, and I wanted to see it done. 
file lived just out of town on the road we 
would have to travel to get to our destination. 
He left it to me to get a rig, a lunch and other 
refreshments, and pick him up on the way out. 
W'hen I went to get the lunch I measured it by 
the way I felt. I had no appetite at the time, 
and the lunch matched the appetite. I had my 
grocer pack one box of sardines (I didn’t like 
the greasy things, or at the time I thought I 
didn’t), some cheese and crackers and a few 
other little odds and ends—about enough for a 
well-advanced convalescent. 
I picked him up, as agreed, the next morn¬ 
ing. On the way out he said: “We are going 
to a place that I have fished since I was a boy. 
I was raised in the neighborhood, and know the 
creek from A to Izzard. Out of hole number 
one we will take four nice trout. I know I can 
put the bait right into their mouths. Then we 
won’t waste any more time there. We will 
’mosey’ on down to hole two. There we will 
take out six that weigh from a pound and a 
half to two pounds.” And so on until he had 
covered about a dozen holes. I figured we would 
have about one hundred pounds of fish when we 
finished the day, and my hopes, spirits and en¬ 
thusiasm grew as his assertions lengthened. 
We arrived at a farm house in good time, 
and after making our horse comfortable, we 
wended our way to a small branch, and soon 
‘OHO, THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE THE BIG TROUT ARE, IS IT? THEN THIS IS THE 
SORT OF FLY, I THINK.” 
