620 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Nov. i6, 1912 
Fishing in Great Watchet Lake 
By HENRY D. ATWOOD 
1 WAS at my desk in the office engaged upon 
my books one morning in March when the 
door opened, and in walked old Sam Whitt- 
worth. Sam was a curious character, employed 
by the railroad as freight agent and collector. 
He was about five feet six inches in height, of 
dark complexion, with straight, black hair, and 
bright, piercing black eyes; his weight was 190 
pounds. He greeted me with a hearty good 
morning and presented me with the company’s 
freight bill for the past month for settlement. 
After looking the bill over, I in turn pre¬ 
sented him with a check for the amount. Sam 
receipted the bill, and as he was about to depart, 
said: “How would you like to go fishing down 
East with me?” 
“I would like it well enough. When are you 
going?” 
“I shall have my vacation next week and will 
be ready to leave here on Saturday.” 
“Very well, I will go with you. What shall 
you want me to carry?” 
“Oh, I have got the traps and lines, etc. All 
we want will be some live bait. The fishing will 
be through the ice, and we can get no bait there.” 
“Very well, I will see that you have bait 
enough.” Thereupon Sam departed with the un¬ 
derstanding that T was to meet him on the fol¬ 
lowing Saturday at 4 p. m. at the depot in Boston. 
In the course of the day I hunted up an old 
acquaintance, and getting him into the carriage 
with me, drove to a creek I knew of, where min¬ 
nows were likely to be found. 
The winter had been very cold, and there 
were great fields of ice all over the meadows, 
where it was stranded, and had settled down as 
the tide went out. For some time we were not 
rewarded by the sight of a single minnow, and 
Dan walked up the bank to the head of the basin 
when he called out: “There are shoals of fish 
here enough to fill your basket.” When we drew 
the seine and dumped the minnows into the bas¬ 
ket we had bait enough. 
I had not got half way across Boston Com¬ 
mon on the next Saturday when I ran against 
another pedestrian. It was snowing and both of 
us had our heads down to face the bitter blasts. 
I dropped my pail of minnows; the other fellow 
dropped his umbrella, each equally ready for an 
emergency. When we had taken a good look at 
one another, each exclaimed: “Halloa, Atkin¬ 
son ! Halloa, Atwood!” 
Atkinson was my classmate, the son of a 
minister, which may have induced him to have 
better tendencies than myself, but he was glad 
to see me. Then he asked me where I was going. 
I told him to the station. 
“I will go with you,” said he, and taking 
hold of one side of the handle of my pail, he 
asked: “What have you got in there?” 
“Bait,” said I. 
“What for?” 
“Any fish that swims.” 
“Well, I will help you carry them.” 
At parting Atkinson said: “I wish you luck 
and would like to go with you.” 
“Come on.” 
“No, I have got to go and see my cousin, 
who lives nearby.” And so we parted. If Atkin¬ 
son had only gone with me he might have be¬ 
come a good fisherman. As it was, he went to 
California and became the president of a college. 
At the railway station I met my friend Sam 
and we took our seats in the smoking car and 
in due time reached Portland. 
The next day being Sunday we kept indoors, 
for the snow was still falling fast. There was 
no let up in the downfall until Monday forenoon. 
Then we started for Great Watchet. Sam se¬ 
cured a horse and sleigh and we bundled our 
traps aboard. 
The snow was badly drifted, and we made 
people so much that we told him we would stay 
with him a day or two before going to Great 
Watchet Lake. With shovel, axe, ice-spade, 
traps and bait we arrived at the pond and com¬ 
menced operations. 
We first shoveled away the snow from the 
location where we intended to fish, cut the holes 
and set our traps. As the ice was very thick, it 
was slow work and occupied the whole forenoon. 
The fish bit well and we caught a goodly 
number, the bulk of them being perch. 
On the following day we tried our fortune 
on one of the other ponds in the vicinity, but had 
poor success, and accordingly made up our minds 
BEFORE THE LAKE FROZE OVER. 
Lewis and His String. 
slow progress. When night overtook us, we 
stopped with a man who ran a shingle mill by 
water power, and whose house was near the road, 
and who readily agreed to harbor us over night 
or as long as we concluded to stay, “for,” said 
he, “there is very good fishing on my mill-pond, 
and also on other ponds in the neighborhood.” 
This miller was a very jolly old fellow. I shall 
never forget him, for he and his wife treated us 
with great hospitality. 
They had a famous old kitchen with a fire¬ 
place large enough for half a dozen to sit around 
comfortably and enjoy the welcome warmth. 
Prompt with the sun we heard the good 
folks stirring, and so we arose and were on hand 
for an early breakfast of potatoes, pork, pie and 
coffee. 
Sam and I liked the hospitality of the old 
to try the mill pond the next day, where we met 
with better fortune and made a fair catch. On 
Friday we again tried a neighboring pond, but 
the wind was from the north and had a fair 
sweep over the pond and skimmed over the holes 
almost as fast as we could break them out, so 
that we eventually abandoned the attempt and 
retreated to the house to thaw out our benumbed 
fingers. 
Saturday we decided to set out for the goal 
of our original intentions, and so after break¬ 
fast, bidding the miller and his wife good-bye, 
and making them due compensation for their 
kindness, we hitched up old Dobbin and started. 
We arrived at Alfred at noon, and just as 
a wedding party was coming down a steep hill 
on their way to the church, where the wedding- 
ceremony was to take place. There was a long 
