F () R E ST AND S T REAM 
r>o:t 
The Third Time He Doesn’t Rise But at the Fourth Cast He is Hooked. 
When Bill Went A-Fishin’ 
A Continuation of one of the Best Stories of Boyhood Experiences Ever Written by a Forest and Stream 
Contributor—What Really Happened to Bill. 
R. JOHNSON runs a tannery and 
a general store, besides a farm. 
The store isn’t a very big one; 
but you think it must be big 
enough for that country. So far 
as you can see. there isn’t anyone 
in all that region to whom to sell 
anything. The tannery isn’t very 
big, either; but you guess it can tan all the hides 
Mr. Johnson can pick up around there. You don’t 
see anyone ’round the place where the house, the 
store and the tannery are—all pretty close to¬ 
gether—and you wonder whether Mr. Johnson is 
farming or tending store or tanning. You finally 
make up your mind that he farms when the 
weather is pleasant; tans hides when it is 
stormy, and tends store in the evening. 
Mrs. Johnson is on hand tending to her busi¬ 
ness; for as soon as she sees the crowd going 
up the path to the house, she throws open the 
door and comes out on the porch to say, “How 
By W. H. Bentley. 
(Concluded from September Forest and Stream.) 
do you do. J " She knows everyone but you and 
shakes hands all round. Daddy tells her who 
you are, and she acts as though she didn’t mind 
having you around. She doesn’t even ask what’s 
the matter with your face, though she takes a 
sharp look when she first sees you. Of course, 
Daddy has to tell her you look different when 
van haven’t been pegging a hornet’s nest, and 
says some things about you that make her 
smile; but she doesn’t rub it in to you at all. 
After dinner Daddy and the others go up¬ 
stairs and get into their fishing rigs. Then they 
come down to the yard, put their poles together, 
fit on the lines, leaders and flies, and get ready 
to start upstream. They talk a good deal about 
the Hies, and wonder what are the best kinds 
to tie on. Daddy hooks on a coachman, a 
brown hackle and a dusty miller. You don’t 
know one from another, and aren’t interested 
in the discussion. Daddy rigs up a pole he 
found in the backyard, gives the driver twenty- 
five cents and asks him to dig some worms for 
you. You follow the driver as he goes for the 
worms; but instead of digging any he puts for 
the barn and pretty soon comes out with a little, 
slimpsy, homemade fish pole that isn’t much 
heavier than a cat tail stalk. 
hirst, lie gets the pole and line in shape, and 
then looks ’round the corner of the house to see 
where the others are. Then he says: 
“Now, Sonny, you come with me and I’ll show 
you how to catch trout with a fly. There’s no 
use in your using worms when you are big 
enough to cast. You can handle this pole, all 
right enough.” 
When we get out to the road, there are Daddy 
and the others legging it ahead. Daddy looks 
back to see that you are coming, and then pays 
no more attention to you. He knows you are all 
right with the driver. You begin to wonder how 
both you and the driver are going t fish with 
only one pole between you; but from the way 
