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FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 13, 1909- 
sents, old or young, is a human being buoyed 
up with hope and happy expectancy. As the 
poet puts it, he is always waiting to be blessed, 
and as the poet does not put it, he is always be¬ 
ing blessed. Every angler I meet, even this 
dull weather, broadens out into a smile. It 
is pouring with rain, so he says, “Plenty of 
trout in the streams”; or the cold wind blows 
off the snows, he merely remarks, “The snow 
will keep the big fellows down till the 16th.” 
From many sources I learn that the big estuary 
trout are numerous about Claremont. One 
story is of a big chap found dead upon the Old 
Beach, which, although he had lost his head 
and “inward,” is alleged to have weighed 10 
pounds. Not quite such pleasant hearing is 
from a gentleman wading a Southern stream, 
toward the close of last season, met two parties 
of trout-spearers and shooters at work. Higher 
up he came across a line running from bank to 
bank, and holding nearly as many hooks as Mr. 
Dannevig’s deep sea line. 
There are among my angling frends a few 
faint hearts, who say, “However can you be such 
an unmitigated stupid-head as to go out fishing 
this miserable cold weather?” Now, I can as¬ 
sure my tenderfoot friends that, if properly 
equipped, you can get as good sport, and as 
much enjoyment, in the winter as in the summer. 
My experience has been that the only time I 
have felt the cold has been either going to or 
coming from the boat, and I have fished every 
Saturday this winter that was at all fit to go 
out upon. Being properly clothed, the next 
thing to look to is that there is a firepot in 
the boat with a sufficiency of good fuel—and 
I prefer coke. In addition, you will need a 
billy, a supply of tea, with etceteras. Your fish¬ 
ing gear should be strong for something heavy- 
might be met with. Our catches during the 
early part of the winter consisted principally of 
perch of a good size. These were found about 
the Alum Rocks, Garth’s Bank, the Second 
Bluff, and Middle Bank. Rock cod of excep¬ 
tional size have been captured off Self’s. By 
the by, an excellent guide to this bank has been 
provided by the aldermen to mark the channel 
leaving the abattoirs. Fish a hundred yards 
inside that, and you will be right. In Limekiln 
Bay the barracouta have been very plentiful this 
winter. I know of no livelier sport than play¬ 
ing a lusty barracouta upon a rod that is a rod, 
not a fish pole. This winter I have secured 
them upon a trace made of single gut. After 
hooking, using care, there is no real difficulty 
in bringing them to boat. When alongside, 
gently lift your line, and be ready, quite ready, 
with your gaff. Should you neglect your gaff, 
but try to do the business with your line, then 
away go line, hooks, and ’couta. That per¬ 
sistent angler, Solomon Child, has made some 
fine hauls of whiting in the vicinity of Garth’s 
Bank; while Messrs. Rogers, Lloyd and party 
have continued faithful lovers of the waters off 
our popular marine suburb of Kingston. Their 
success has been great. The wharf anglers 
have not done too badly off the Alexandra 
Pier, where large mackerel have been landed 
more or less every week, in addition to barra¬ 
couta, rock cod, perch and trumpeter. So, as 
you see, our winter fishing has not been devoid 
of sport. 
Recent Deaths. 
In the death of John Stewart Kennedy, which 
occurred last week at his home in this city, 
America has lost a citizen of whom it may well 
be said, “Here was a man.” Although he at¬ 
tained the four-score-year mark, Mr. Kennedy 
was actively engaged until a few days before 
his death in his large work of bettering the con¬ 
dition of his fellow men. A retired banker of large 
means, he gave vast sums of money to worthy 
institutions during his lifetime, and in his will 
he bequeathed so many millions of dollars to 
various colleges, churches, hospitals and socie¬ 
ties that a statement of the total amount given 
away by him reads like a fairy tale. Indeed, no 
one knows how much he gave away during his 
lifetime, and it was not his fault that the name 
of the donor of half a million dollars to save 
the prestige of one of the famous colleges finally 
became known. Mr. Kennedy was very fond of 
fishing with artificial flies, and it was his prac¬ 
tice to devote several weeks’ time each season 
to fishing for trout and salmon. 
Colonel E. C. Farrington, of Augusta, 
Maine, is dead. He was one of Maine’s best 
known veteran sportsmen, and for many years 
had been a stanch advocate of fish and game 
protection and propagation. As secretary and 
treasurer of the Maine Sportsmen’s Fish and 
Game Association, he was a leader in all work 
directed toward the betterment of existing con¬ 
ditions, and his State has benefited largely 
through his efforts. Colonel Farrington wrote 
frequently for Forest and Stream, and it was 
only in September last that he stoutly defended 
the pickerel, one of his favorite fish, with an 
earnestness worthy of a better cause, for we 
fancy that Norman E. Spaulding wrote of the 
pickerel as he did half in earnest and half in 
jest, for he is fond of pickerel fishing and has 
been since his boyhood days. 
Harland W. Sweet died recently at South 
Haven, Mich., after an illness of ten years’ 
duration. He was born in Grafton, Vt., in 1838, 
but had been a resident of Michigan since the 
early days of its settlement. An earnest worker 
in the building trade, he devoted his leisure days 
to field sports and boating. Before paralysis 
put an end to his active life he had a very large 
collection of firearms and trophies from the 
woods. For thirty years and more he was a 
constant reader of Forest and Stream. 
Casting on the Frog Pond. 
Undoubtedly the most surprising of all the 
avocations of the Common is angling—that 
there is angling on the Frog Pond sounds like 
a joke, but it is a fact, as anyone may see for 
himself Saturday afternoons, maybe at other 
times. There is, in the middle of the east side 
of the pond, a little pier built out from which, 
on Saturdays, stretches a measuring gauge, and 
on this does the enthusiastic, but city-bound, 
devotee of Sir Izaak practice the gentle art of 
bait- and flv-casting. 
What the shade of that gentleman may think 
of his art applied in the middle of a shrieking 
city, in a fishless pond, it would be interesting 
to hear, says a Boston paper, but he could not 
deny, if he saw the men I saw so engaged, that 
there was real art in casting, if not in landing. 
It is difficult to think seriously of angling in 
the Frog Pond, but if one goes there and sees 
it for himself, the absurdity of the thought dis¬ 
appears in the charm of watching the graceful 
action, and noting the skill of these enthusiastic 
but handicapped—no, not fishermen, for there 
be no fish. Anglers? What would be the word? 
Anyhow, it is a pretty and a surprising sight, 
and the Massachusetts Angling Association who 
are in charge of the affair are desirous that all 
interested in this art of casting come there 
Saturday afternoons and help make the pro¬ 
posed competitions a success. Surely enthu¬ 
siastic fishers—again the word—ought to be in¬ 
terested in this unique portrayal of their favor¬ 
ite sport, others by the pleasure of watching 
a delicate and nice skill in graceful action, and 
then others again, attracted by the Alice-like 
thought of angling on the Common. 
Trout Eyes. 
Hendersonville, N. C-, Nov. 4 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: I have been watching every issue 
of Forest and Stream since my letter appeared 
on Sept. 18 for some angler to give an explana¬ 
tion of my “fish pearl.” At last it has come. 
Friends had asked if it were not possible that 
it was a fish eye, but its appearance seemed to 
prove that no eye could be so hard. But now 
I know it could have been nothing else and I 
am indebted to W. D. Coggeshall for this in¬ 
formation, which is certainly interesting. Next 
season, if all goes well with me, I will make 
some experiments with trout eyes. 
It certainly is never too late to learn, and 
though I have always been a close observer and 
have caught fish of one kind or another for 
over fifty years, yet now at sixty I have learned 
something new to me. Many thanks to Mr. 1 
Coggeshall. Ernest L. Ewbank. 
Newark Bait- and Fly-Casting Club. 
Newark, N. J., Nov. 6 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: In the final tournament of the Newark , 
Bait- and Fly-Casting Club, held for members 
only on Election Day, the following results were 
recorded: 
Open 
140 Z. dist. 
Best 
Dist. 
5oz. 
%oz. 
dry fly 
Ave. 
Cast. 
Fly. 
Fly. 
Acc’y- 
Acc y. 
Mapes ... 
.187 
202 
100 
79 
97.14 
96.13 
Champion 
....128 
176 
94 
83 
96.5 
98.14 
Muldoon 
.127 
175 
79 
75 
96.10 
97.14 
. 101 
145 
66 
66 
97.2 
98.7 
Eichlin .. 
.63 
109 
75 
67 
96.13 
96.2 
57 
91.0 
Doughty 
74 
94.12 
99.8 
The weather conditions were very fair. 
Fred T. Mapes, Sec’y. 
Fish Washed Ashore. 
Visitors to Fire Island, L. I., saw more fish 
than they ever did at any one time in their lives 
before, no doubt, when the beach for miles was 
strewn with whiteing, which had been thrown 
upon the beach by the surf combers and left 
lying there as the water receded. Hundreds of 
fish were flopping about on the beach and the 
natives gathered in as many as they wanted, 
and it is probable that much salted fish will be 
in evidence on the tables this winter. 
It is no unusual sight to the natives here to 
see fish washed up on the beach, hut many of 
them said to-day that they never before saw so 
many fish thrown ashore at one time.—Evening 
Sun, Nov. 2. 
