FOREST AND STREAM 
861 
FRANK O. SMITH 
Member of Congress from Maryland 
** Tuxedo has no equal. It is the only 
smoking tobacco free from bite. Tuxedo 
is the best pal I have ever had. ** 
$UC/C 
EDWARD BRUCE MOORE 
Former Commissioner of Patents 
"My choice in pipe tobaccos is Tuxedo. 
The unusual mildness and fragrance of 
this mellowest of tobaccos gives me the 
greatest pleasure I have ever obtained from 
apipe '” 
“• > 
A. M. ROSE 
Judge of the Circuit Court of Illinois 
"Tuxedo tobacco is pleasantly mild , 
yet has a fragrance that is most satisfy¬ 
ing. I enjoy Tuxedo more than any 
tobacco I’ve ever smoked." 
You Men Who Have 
Pipes 
— discarded and forgotten pipes — 
inactive, retired, ‘ ‘out-of-commission” 
pipes—pipes you’ve tried to smoke and 
couldn’t smoke —you men try Tuxedo. 
You can smoke a pipe—every man 
can—but you can Ysmoke every kind of 
tobacco without making your tongue 
rebel and your throat get angry. 
Give your pipe another chance—fill it 
with fresh Tuxedo, packed firmly but not 
hard; smoke slowly; and you’ll know why 
so many men have forsaken all smokes 
except Tuxedo. 
The Perfect Tobacco for Pipe and Cigarette 
Tuxedo is a good-hearted, gentle, quiet, 
soft-voiced tobacco. 
That’s because the rich, mellow leaf is 
first aged from 3 to 5 years and then it’s 
treated by the famous original “Tuxedo 
Process ”—that takes every particle of bite 
and irritation out of tobacco. 
Tuxedo has plenty of imitators — but 
there can't be another tobacco like Tuxedo, 
because no other can be made by the secret 
“Tuxedo Process.” 
Try Tuxedo this week. 
YOU CAN BUY TUXEDO EVERYWHERE 
Convenient, glassine-wrapped, C Famous green tin, with gold 1 A 
moisture-proof pouch . . .DC lettering, curved tofitpocket 1 VC 
In Tin Humidors, 40c and 80c In Glass Humidors, 50c and 90c 
THE AMERICAN TOBACCO COMPANY 
ALL WITH A LITTLE DISCARDED (?) BAIT 
CASTING ROD. 
By D. L. Downing. 
T was only a little seven ounce steel bait 
casting rod to begin with, and before it was 
broken, and mended by telescoping for a 
few inches and soldering, had to its credit any 
number of three pound bass, several four pound¬ 
ers, one five pound boy, another five pound 
twelve ounce and one that went to a full six 
pounds and five ounces of fighting material. 
The latter two came from Northwest River, 
Va., and the others were about equally divided 
between Northwest River and Lake Smith, Va. 
So really the little rod with its glass imitation 
guides should have been laid away, done up with 
blue ribbons, together with our other discarded 
treasures too dear to memory to be thrown away. 
The desecration of the little rod came about 
most naturally. Living at Buckroe Beach where 
spot and hog fish are caught, in a stone’s throw 
of the beach, in such numbers that show most 
clearly whether one is a sport or hog, suggested 
the use of the casting rod as just about the 
proper thing for fish that size in deep water. 
Several of the old-timers, and good fishermen 
too, but of the hand line variety and unreason¬ 
ably prejudiced against any thing but hand lines, 
predicted that the first good sized croaker I got 
hold of would be the last of that “pole” and 
little “teeny line.” Of course I did get hold of 
good sized croakers, and caught them too, but I 
couldn’t yank them in like some who seem de¬ 
termined that they will pull the fish’s head off; 
I wasn’t trying to do that at all, I was fishing 
for the sport I got out of it, and Brother, if 
you are fortunate enough to be near where spot 
or hog fish bite, and are not afraid of possibly 
losing your rig on a big fish, try it by all means. 
Last Sunday morning I had hardly dropped 
anchor at our favorite fishing spot when Cap¬ 
tain Cunni put out from his cottage and headed 
for the same place and dropped in easy talking 
distance. After catching several spot Captain 
Cunni suggested dropping out in the bay about 
half a mile, that it was a rock out there, on the 
edge of which he thought we would catch some 
extra large spot. 
Of course, I still used my little rod, a very 
small cuttyhunk line and small spot hooks, and 
a level winding casting reel. I had caught only 
a few spot and hog fish when I got a strike that 
started the line the other way in such a business 
and straight forward way that I promptly told 
my dear old friend, the old and broken and sold¬ 
ered rod, that held so many fond recollections, 
a tender good-bye, for she was already bending 
to the breaking point and no prospect of a let-up 
on the other end at all; however, by the time my 
spool was two-thirds empty the fish stopped, and 
then we had it hot and heavy for about fifteen 
minutes, he running in jumps and jerks, and 
then sulking. With about ninety feet of line 
out, he came to the top and ran in a half circle 
around the boat with his dorsal fin about two 
and one-half inches above the water, and at that 
distance I took him to be a bonnet nosed shark. 
After going down he allowed me to bring him up 
to the boat in plain sight, but then, then, he be¬ 
gan to fight even more desperately than at first, 
but not for so long, and yet I was not sure what 
it was, until I got him to the point where he 
began to show himself and roll over on his back, 
and then I found out it was a bonita, and say, 
but maybe I wasn’t anxious to catch him, for 
no matter how large a shark I might catch, the 
old timers of the hand lines would only say, “It 
is nothing but a denied old dog fishbut a 
bonita, ah! that was different; a bonita was a 
bonita, that explains it all, and in just twenty- 
three minutes he allowed me to slip my fingers 
(in the absence of a gaff hook) under his gills 
while he was lying on his side, and gently lift 
him in the boat, where he lay perfectly quiet, 
not a kick left in him, and Captain Cunni, whom 
I had forgotten along with the rest of the world, 
told me I had had twenty-three minutes of battle 
royal, and it was time to go to dinner. 
After seeing him tip the scales at nine pounds 
eight and one-half ounces, and taking his pic¬ 
ture with the “discarded” rod, which was still in 
as good condition as it was when it went in the 
fight, Captain Cunni said, “Let me see that,” in¬ 
dicating the rod, and with a shake of his head 
(for he is a stern believer in nothing but hand 
lines) said, “I don’t see how you did it.” 
Mr. Editor, how is this for light tackle, espe¬ 
cially when you consider deep water and a run¬ 
ning tide? 
If you choose to give this space in your most 
interesting magazine, I believe it will help or sug¬ 
gest a way for some of the fraternity to get 
more sport out of their light weight catches, and 
possibly some real thrills and excitement from 
an occasional “big one.” 
