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Now is the Time to Buy Books on Fish- 
Send for Sportsmen’s Book 
Catalog. 
FOREST AND STREAM PUB. CO. 
New York, N. Y. 
ing. 
221 W. 57th Street 

378 
In writing to 
efficient fish commission, even years be- 
fore the establishment of the Federal 
Fish Commission. It is probably ow- 
ing to this care and watchfulness that 
her waters are so well supplied with the 
finny tribe. 
Wisconsin’s most famous game-fish 
is, of course, the black bass, large- 
mouth and small-mouth. Years ago one 
could hardly go amiss for bass fishing 
wherever there was water, but at the 
present time some of the most famous 
fishing resorts have seen their best days 
owing to the springing up of others 
with more attractions to offer. But, 
notwithstanding, Wisconsin is probably 
the banner state still for black bass. 
I have fished all over the state, one 
time and another. At Green Lake, near 
Ripon, a large and deep lake, I once 
took six large-mouth bass aggregating 
forty pounds, and from Okauchee Lake, 
in Waukesha county, I have, on several 
occasions, taken a creel of bass averag- 
ing fully five pounds, some of them 
small-mouth. But these heavy weights 
were rather logy and lacked the activity 
and strategy of those of less weights 
in their fight for freedom. But black 
bass fishing in Wisconsin speaks for 
itself, so in conclusion I will refer to a 
fishing episode that occurred in Indi- 
ana. 
WAS once in Indianapolis for a few 
days and ran across my friend, 
Harry S. New, an enthusiastic angler, 
and then only the son of his father, 
John S. New, but now our efficient 
Postmaster-General. Harry arranged 
for some fly-fishing for black bass on 
White River, a few miles from the city. 
There was to be a party of four, the 
most popular preacher in Indianapolis, 
a civil war colonel, Harry and myself. 
We were to occupy two boats and cast 
our flies as we floated down-stream. In 
one boat was the preacher and the 
colonel, a basket of lunch and a bottle 
of rye whiskey (this was in the pre- 
prohibition days), and in the other 
boat was Harry and myself, a basket of 
lunch and a bottle of claret. Our boat 
was the first to get off and as we drifted 
along we cast our flies on either side 
of the stream with more or less suc- 
cess. About a mile down the river we 
saw a colored brother fishing from the 
bank with a long cane pole. 
“Good morning, Uncle,” 
Harry, “what luck?” 
“Purty good, Boss,” he replied, and 
held up his string for our inspection; 
it consisted of four fine small-mouth 
bass and a big channel catfish. I saw 
that they were strung on a narrow 
leather strap. “Say, Boss,” he con- 
tinued, “I dun bin fishing sence sun-un, 
an’ I got my laigs wet .an’ I’m dreffel 
‘fraid I gwine ketch de roomatiz; I’d 
'gib dem fo’ bass fo’ a big dram 0’ 
| wisky.” 
“Sorry, Uncle;?’ 

shouted 

said Harry, “but we 
Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. 
It will identify you. 
haven’t a drop; but there’s another boat 
coming along and the men have a bottle 
of whiskey; perhaps you can coax a 
dram from them.” 
qe OOD LAWD,” he prayed, “I shoah 
need it bad; I may luk purty wet, — 
but I’m pow’ful dry.” Then, to ex- 
press his gratitude, he continued: “Say, 
Boss, don’t yo’ want sum 0’ my chicken 
libbah and sof’ craws to use ’stead o’ 
dem feddah tings?” 
“No, thank you, Uncle, we’re doing 
pretty well with flies; perhaps you can 
make a dicker with the other boat.” 
Soon after noon we arrived at the 
place agreed upon for lunch, just as the 
other boat hove in sight. After land- 
ing, the Colonel looked quite important,. 
and was anxious to see our catch. We 
showed our half dozen bass with some 
pride, the parson producing a string 
of three good bass, and then the colonel 
held up with much satisfaction four 
black bass, leather string and all! His 
exhibit had quite a familiar look to us. 
Then the contents of the baskets were 
spread on a white cloth, and I made a 
pitcher of claret punch. Then Harry 
said: 
“Let’s have a cocktail before lunch; 
bring out the whiskey.” 
The bottle was produced, but mirabilis 
dictu, it was empty! : 
“Somehow,” . said the colonel, “the 
cork must have come out.” 
Ne could not press the question, es- 
pecially as one of the custodians 
was a prominent divine; and as the 
colonel said, and which was doubtless 
true, the cork must have come out. 
While smoking our pipes in the shade 
of a white oak tree, between the road 
and the river, some one was approach- 
ing, loudly singing: 
“Ole Satan he’s a snake in the grass, 
One mo’ ribbah to cross. 
Uf yo’ don’ luk out he’ll ketch you at 
igs’, 
One mo’ ribbah to cross. 
O, Jordan, one mo’ ribbah to cross.” 
The vocalist proved to be our colored — 
brother, in high spirits and quite hila- 
rious. He had his long pole over his 
shoulder and the big catfish, looped on 
a forked twig, in his other hand. As 
he came abreast of us he shouted: 
“Good evenin’, gemman; good bye, 
kernel, I’ll be down heah a-fishin’ nex’ 
Chuseday mornin’.” , 
Then Harry whispered in my ear: 
“Well, after all, a fair exchange is no 
robbery.” 

ee ae bee ee ee 
ee ee eS oe eee 
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