Forest and Stream 
P a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy, 
Six Months, $1.50. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, MARCH 23, 1912. 
VOL. LXXVIIL—No. 12. 
127 Franklin St., New York 
Copyright, 1912, by Forest and Stream Publishing Company. 
Entered as second-class matter at the Post-Office, New York, N. Y. 
Zimmy, Fisherman 
By FREDERIC ARTHUR DOMINY 
B etween shots on the billiard table we 
were talking of trout fishing, another fel¬ 
low and I, and I was pro¬ 
testing at the dictum of that old 
bug-a-bear, duty, who said, “Keep 
your hand at the wheel, no vaca¬ 
tion this spring for you, save a 
day or so at a time.” Who can 
get any fishing, trout fishing es¬ 
pecially, in a two days’ excursion 
unless you are a member, or at 
least the friend of a member, of 
one of those fishing clubs where 
the captains of industry spend 
their week-ends, consuming high¬ 
balls and culinary tid-bits and 
casting a fly or baited hook for 
an hour or so into a pond so 
thickly stocked with trout that 
you could almost catch them with 
a dipnet. 
The Adirondacks and Maine 
were both impossible. I could 
not even afford the time neces¬ 
sary for a little run up into the 
Catskills, although I did know a 
stream there where a fellow could 
get decent fishing, but, as I ex¬ 
plained to Jack, what was the use 
of wasting two days on such a 
fickle proposition. 
“I’ll tell you what I’d do,” re¬ 
marked Jack; “if I were as crazy 
about catching a few fish as you 
are. I’d pack my grip and take 
a morning train for Islip, find 
Zimmy and get him to take me 
out.” 
“Zimmy? Who is Zimmy?” I 
inquired curiously. 
“Zimmy is the man who can 
catch trout where the ordinary 
fisherman wouldn’t find one in a 
hundred years. I know, because 
I’ve seen him do it. He’ll fish a 
brook that you could step across 
and get fish out of it. Good ones, 
too. He don’t bother with any¬ 
thing under eight inches. If you 
can get him to guide you, you 
will come home with fish.” 
“Where did you say I could 
find this most remarkable man— 
I-something-or-other?” I asked. 
“Islip. Get off at Islip and ask the first per¬ 
son you see where Zimmy lives. When you find 
him, just say that Jack Murray sent you down 
ing grounds the greater would be my satis¬ 
faction if the fishing proved to be half what 
Jack said it would, so the fol¬ 
lowing morning, instead of a 
week or two later, I boarded a 
train, and after an hour’s ride, 
the brakeman announced, in the 
voice common to that profession, 
“Oisip.” 
When I had alighted a young¬ 
ster, with sharp eyes for the rod 
that indicated my intentions, 
greeted me with, “Goin’ fishin’, 
mister?” 
Here was a mine of informa¬ 
tion that could be developed 
easily, so I speculated to the ex¬ 
tent of a dime and learned that 
Zimmy’s full name was J. Zim¬ 
merman Brown, a man of parts, 
the best shot and the slayer of 
the most quail during the open 
season, owner of the fastest 
hounds that ran the most foxes 
to earth in the winter, caught the 
most trout in the spring, and the 
most bluefish in the summer. All 
this the youthful admirer of 
Zimmy imparted and much more 
as he trotted along beside me, on 
the way to the home of this not¬ 
able citizen. 
We found Mr, Brown, or 
rather Zimmy, for he insisted 
after the first half hour’s ac¬ 
quaintanceship in my so address¬ 
ing him, in his back yard with 
his hounds. 
“Here’s a man who wants to 
see you, Mr. Brown,” announced 
my young friend, importantly, 
raising his voice to a shrill 
scream, determined to be heard 
above the deep-throated tonguing 
of the dogs. 
“Jest a minit, mister,” Zimmy 
shouted. “Here Drive! Here 
Lead! Here Thrash! Get in 
your boxes, you noisy devils,” he 
commanded sternly, and they 
obeyed. Then he turned to me. 
“What can I do for you, mister?” 
“You can take me trout fish¬ 
ing,” I replied, and introducing 
myself, told him of Jack’s recommendation. 
“Jack says you’re the best fisherman he ever 
knew,” I added. 
and that you would like to have him take you 
fishing. If he takes a fancy to you, he’ll go, 
LENDING A HAND. 
From a photograph by Norman E., Spaulding. 
and if he does, you’ll most certainly get fish.” 
On my way home I decided that the sooner 
I made the acquaintance of Zimmy and his fish¬ 
