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Updated: June 2, 2025
"My advice is to climb yonder hill and take a squint around," came from Captain Jerry. "That's a splendid idea, providing we can get to the tap," said Dick. "There is no use of all of us going, lad. You can go with me while the rest stay here." "What shall we do in the meantime?" asked Sam. "Better try your hand at fishin', lad, and see if you can knock some birds over with sticks and stones.
'Fore you came, Miss Janice, if Marty was diggin' in the garden an' found a worm, he thought he was goin' fishin' and got him a bait can and a pole, an' set right off for the lake that's right!" and Walky shook all over, and grew so red in the face over his joke that Janice was really afraid he was becoming apoplectic.
And there wuz them that said that they should think the huntin' would be excitin', a-rummagin' round on the ground for some old bones, and they should think the fishin' would be superb, a-dippin' 'em out of a barell and stringin' 'em onto their own strings. But their stories are very large, that I know.
I was in there just now fillin' up his ink-stand and, by crimus, I let a great big gob of ink come down ker-souse right in the middle of the nice, clean blottin' paper in front of him. I held my breath, cal'latin' to catch what Stephen Peter used to say he caught when he went fishin' Sundays. Stevey said he generally caught cold when he went and always caught the Old Harry when he got back.
But he done writ a book on fishin' poles, an' dat's all the colonel reads when he ain't workin' much. It's a book 'bout angle worms as neah as I kin make out." "You mean Izaak Walton's Complete Angler, I guess," said a man, who passed by just then on his way to the smoking compartment, and he smiled genially at Shag. "Dat's it, yes, sah! I knowed it had suffin t' do wif angle worms.
I only wish it was seven o'clock and the sun droppin'; he was a lazy man that invented Sunday; another day I'll away to the fishin' i' the mornin', and the folks can say just what they like. I'm not goin' to waste my time and my baccy lyin' on sand hills." So he smoked on until the sun reached its greatest height, and the afternoon shadows lay like dark pansies in the hollows.
"I can't write so easy generally," said the little boy, "but, you see, I have a good deal to write about." "Then there's another thing," said Abner. "I shouldn't know how to spell so many words. You must be an awful good scholar." "I always liked to study," said Herbert. "Don't you like to read and study?" "No; I'd rather play ball or go fishin', wouldn't you?"
Before Balfour the people were starvin', an' ivery other year Father Davis that's dead this six months would go round beggin' an' prayin' for a thrifle to kape life in thim. The hardships and the misery the poor folks had, God alone knows. An' would ye say to thim, 'tis Home Rule ye want? "There was a young fellow fishin' here from Dublin.
Perhaps some of you have heard tell of it." "I have a faint recollection of such a place," said Bart. "Scott's Bay, do you call it? Yes, that must be the place that I've heard of; and is it behind this cape?" "It's a bay that runs up thar," said the captain. "We'll see it soon arter we get further down. It's a fishin and ship-buildin place. They catch a dreadful lot of shad thar sometimes."
"They's mighty few white men takes the trouble to look, but the Indians used to know. They'd come canoein' an' fishin' down the river an' camp under these very trees, an' Ma 'ud git so mad at the old squaws. Settlers wasn't so thick then, an' you had to be mighty careful not to rile 'em, an' they'd come a-trapesin' with their wild berries. Woods full o' berries!
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