BLACK BASS. 

 WHERE TO CATCH THEM IN QUANTITY WITHIN AN HOUR'S RIDE OF NEW YORK. 

 Best Methods and Baits fully treated upon, with salient Practical Hints upon choice of Rods and Tackle. 

 Weather Prognostications and Atmospheric Influences Reviewed. 

 [Illustration (handwriting): Charles Barker Bradford]

 NEW YORK: THE W. P. POND PUBLISHING CO. , 37 W. 24TH STREET. 

Copyright, 1888, W. P. Pond & Co. 

 Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place: Where I may see my fly or cork down sink, With eager bite of pike, or bass, or dace, And on the world and my Creator think: While some men strive ill-gotten goods t'embrace: And others spend their time in base excess Of wine, or worse, in war or wantonness. Let them that will, these pastimes still pursue, And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill, So I the fields and meadows green may view, And daily by fresh rivers walk at will. 

 --_Ancient Angler. _

[Illustration: Black Bass Fishing]

There is probably no more welcome news for one fond of black bassfishing than a description and general details of where good sportmay be had; and when the individual is a unit in the population of alarge city and suddenly learns that this is obtainable within an easydistance, the information is worth its weight in gold, in hisestimation, if in no one else's. The main object of this paper onblack bass fishing is to supply that knowledge to a large contingent, and also to give a few hints to those, who, fond of fishing, maystill be open to a few practical hints. There are possibly manyfishermen like myself, who, while not unfamiliar with salt-watersport with rod and line, still know and fully appreciate the pleasureof fishing for the fresh-water black bass. 

Salt-water fishing is grand sport, but there are many denizens of acity who have been reared in the districts of fresh-water streams, lakes and ponds, who have not had the opportunities of cultivatingsalt-water sport, and who even when surrounded with every facilityfor its pursuit, would still be elated at finding some well-stockedstream near at hand. Anglers, as a rule, are unable to go far a-fieldin search of fresh-water fishing, and for six years past it was acontinual thorn in my flesh, mortifying me considerably, that noinformation could be obtained of any good fishing that did notnecessitate an absence of several days. 

Last season, entirely by accident, I ran upon a magnificent placewithin nineteen miles of New York City. It is a beautiful spot, easily reached without much expense or trouble and within an hour'sride by rail. In all my search, this is the one spot I care torecommend to my readers. Take the cars from Jersey City to Rahway, N. J. , and upon arriving there walk to a small village called Milton, half a mile west of Rahway; pass through this, continue half a milefurther west, and you will reach Milton Lake. An hour and a half'stime covers the distance. I generally take the one-thirty p. M. Train, and return in the evening; but trains run almost every hour toand from Rahway. 

Milton Lake is a body of water about a mile square, with two outlets, one falling over a picturesque stone dam twenty feet high into astream about ten feet wide; and the other outlet, a small streamflowing through a mill-gate to the Milton Mills. In each of thesestreams there are plenty of bass, but in the lake proper and in thelittle brook that flows into the upper end of the lake, they are inabundance. I pass the lake itself and follow the little stream forabout half a mile until I come to White's Farm. This I have found tobe the finest fishing ground. The stream is about eighteen feet wideat the narrowest part and from fifty to sixty at its widest. It risesmiles upon miles back in the country somewhere, and runs rippling andchattering over the shallows, surging silently over the pools untilit empties into the lake. I have never fished higher than White'sFarm, being well satisfied with the sport obtained there, but theresident farmers tell me that there is even finer fishing up stream. 

Like the average fisherman, I am more or less superstitious, andhaving always had good luck at my favorite place (the edge of a finepiece of wood, which, by the way, contain a few woodcock), I do notcare to seek further, and, perhaps, fare worse. 

Here, where the stream branches off from a wide pond-like section, and slowly flows past two dozen or so fine willows on either bank, Ihave made a rude seat in one of the trees, and using a coat for acushion, have spent many pleasant hours; not always fishing, but onhot summer afternoons, shaded from the sun, just letting my line runout in the water, careless about either rise or catch, in quietrepose, looking at the beautiful natural landscape around me, fairlyenchanted with its rural splendor. Then I feel that for a shortspace, at least, I have thrown off the burden of a busy life, andcan quietly absorb all that Dame Nature thus generously affords. Isee the silvery sky-reflecting stream winding its peaceful waythrough the rich pasturage, under the rustic bridge, past the line ofundulating willows, that, moving with the faintest breath of air, seem ever bending down to kiss its ripples; past the green banks andorchards, on through clover patches, and sedge-lined promontories, flashing like burnished metal at the rifts, black as night in thepools, dappled and flecked by the mirrored clouds, kissed into "cat'spaws" by the faint breeze; on it goes until its farther course islost in the shadow of the olive-green woods that tower in massivedarkness against the soft amber-colored clouds and pale blue sky. Thewatchful kingfisher, perched on the other side of the stream, eyes measkance but has no great fear at my presence, the splash of adisturbed turtle or the heavier fall of a diving frog calling for hismore earnest attention. Bass are leaping in every direction; far upon the hillside sounds the bell of a cow; nearer still calls "BobWhite;" robins are piping; the wrens are chirping; a hungry crowdismally cawks, and all these sounds mingle with the music of themillions of trilling nameless tiny insects concealed in the deepgrasses below me and in the fluttering leaves over-head. 

What greater pleasure can a busy man wish for than to now and again"leave life and the world behind" for a few hours and amidsurroundings like these smoke and chat with a congenial friend, inpleasant shade, until the sun sinks towards the West, and the work offishing begins. 

One can fish equally well from bank or boat. The stream sides aregrass-bound and flower-decked to the very water edge, affording dryand safe footing, with here and there a fence to lean against, orhang your impedimenta upon. A little to the left of the farmhouse isthe orchard, succeeded by a wood of nut and oak trees, which slope tothe banks of the lake, and under whose shade bass may be caught atany hour of the day, be the sun ever so hot. The water here is deepand cool, and I use it as a swimming ground. It is also a fine placeto cool drinks in. A bottle of Piper Heidsieck or a bottle or two ofbeer slung into the depths of the pool with a stout cord, can bedrawn up an hour later cool as a snow stream in the mountains. Alittle distance above a rustic bridge spans the stream, under and oneither side of which, just in the shadow line, a dozen or more finebass, weighing up to four pounds each, may be seen at any time. Asone crosses the bridge they raise their weather-eye and look up, butdo not move, whilst hundreds of young bass, an inch or two in length, shoot from the innumerable crevices like so many fresh-water shiners. The very foundation of the bridge seems to be alive with them. Thereare also a number of giant sun-fish here which seldom refuse a bait. At daybreak on fine mornings, when camping there for a day or two, Ihave caught in less than an hour half a dozen two-pound bass, notcounting other fish and small bass which I tossed back. I used one ofChubb's ordinary silk trolling lines and one of Abbey's spoons, which, by the way, to my fancy spin more freely and better than anyothers I have used. This I worked sometimes from a small bark canoeand sometimes from a wooden one, which I keep at the farm, and use topaddle up and down the stream between the willows and the bridge, orupon the lake itself. 

Many men prefer a boat and oars, but I find a light canoe infinitelypreferable. The double paddle makes less splash than the oars, and ifone can use the Canadian single blade, it does not make any noise atall. Added to this it is easier managed, one sees where one is going, and it can be lifted with one hand from stream to lake, and lake tostream. 

The fish under the bridge are very tempting, but also very wary, andthe residents say they are but seldom caught from the bridge itself. One day I cast a yellow-body fly, (a clumsy affair, but the best Ihad, having lost my fly book on the cars) and as it fell on the waterI let it drift under the bridge, more in carelessness than by intent, and as it reached the rich bank of green weeds out of my sight, Ifelt the tug and magnetic vibration that every angler knows so well. Quick as a flash I dropped from the bridge to the bank, ran knee deepinto the stream, and fighting the fish clear of the structure andreeds, landed a three-pound five-ounce beauty at my side on thebank. "That's the first fish I've seen caught from the bridge, " saidan admiring native, and it was the only one I ever caught, althoughmy line has dropped there many times before and since. 

Now I know the trick. I made a stout cord fast to a stump above thebridge, and let my canoe float down under and through the bridge, then I cast my fly, and a boy sitting in the bows slowly pulled methrough again up to the stump. The fish seeing no splash, only thepassing shadow of the silent canoe, took my fly readily, and in theearly morning I was sure of a fairly good catch. If fished for fromthe bridge, they will lie there, and never move a fin; the current isweak, and if scared away by a stone or twig, they will return in asecond or two, almost to the same spot. I fancy the first one Icaught was not a regular "bridge bass, " but was one swimming upstream at the edge of the weeds in search of his breakfast. Now ifany of my fishing friends think they can catch these bridge bass, Iwill guarantee to show them (or they can go and see for themselves)from six to a dozen of the beauties lying there at any time. 

When I do not succeed with them to my satisfaction, I get some one tosystematically drop stones and drive them up stream, where, perhapsout of pure unadulterated cussedness, they seem to readily take afly. A great advantage of this spot up stream is that the baby bassand sun fish give but little trouble. The principal nuisances arethe large eels. If the line touches the bottom for an instant an eelseems certain to be waiting for it, and I would as readily handle asquid as an eel. 

My brother, who frequently accompanies me, is not a fisherman andprefers fishing for eels, and by a rule of contrariness the bassbother him quite as much as the fresh-water "snakes, " as I call them, bother me. 

Among my troubles I must not forget the mud turtles and snappers. They, too, are a nuisance when baiting with worms, and anyone whodesires a few of the "shell-backs" can be abundantly accommodated. 

For more than two miles of this lovely stream any man who knows howto handle a rod or throw a fly can land, or at least hook, some ofthe liveliest two to three pounders he could wish for, and althoughbass vary in their tastes at different periods of the day, I knownothing better than the common trolling spoon as a regular thing. There is one pool where I would almost be inclined to wager that Icould get a strike with either spoon or fly every ten minutes duringthe first two hours of daylight, or from five to eight in theevening. That is saying a good deal, but it is a fact. 

The best fish I caught last season was when I was going up stream inthe canoe near the mouth of the lake and close to the right side. Bya sudden movement I shot under some willow branches. I was justletting my line run out after a weed strike and was holding thepaddle in my left hand, with the line between my teeth, using myright hand to give a good push to clear the boughs, when "zip, zip!"a beauty seized my bait as I floated out. I got nervous, upset mycanoe and rolled into the water, but waded on shore and landed myfish. He weighed four pounds, seven ounces, live weight, and I havehis head and tail and a clear conscience to prove it. 

The last half day of the season I was fishing at Milton Lake, and Icaught eighteen fine bass, and two eels, the latter as large round asa policeman's club and as dirty and slimy as usual. Eels alwaysremind me of a skinny circus contortionist. When I am unfortunateenough to hook one, I generally make a clean cut of two yards of silkline, hook and all, and tie him up to the fence, or bow stay of mycanoe. I would willingly let all of them go again only from alingering remnant of a boyish superstition that they would go andtell all the bass how horribly indigestible my bait was. 

I remember catching a big snapping turtle, weighing about twelvepounds, in the lake one day. When I pulled it up, my companiongrabbed it, and I really think I would have jumped overboard but forthe fear that others might be around to make things more pleasant forme for jumping "from the frying pan into the fire. " I suppose asalt-water fisherman would have yelled and danced for joy; I am notbuilt that way. When I fish for bass, I want bass, and when I fishfor turtles--No! I would not want them even then. The next one thattakes my bait can have pole, line, hook and all. 

The bass in the lake are innumerable, but they are more difficult tocatch than those in the stream, a fact which pleases the truefisherman, who fishes to match his skill and science against theinstinct and cunning of the fish, rather than with the one soleintention of making his bag larger than that of any preceding angler. 

Remember the lake bass want _sport_ more than _food_, and the baitmust be handled in a lively manner to bring success. Some fifteenyears ago this water was stocked by some wealthy Jersey men, and, from what I can learn, not half a dozen expert anglers have visitedits waters in the past ten years, and there is no record of anybodyever having fished the stream I here describe. 

Last season I only met three strangers at the lake, but they neverseemed to catch anything beyond eels, turtles, sun-fish, and a fewtwo inch bass, the name of which they did not even know, and I gotinto their bad graces by telling them they ought to return the bassinto the lake. They thought I was a crank, in fact one of them toldme so. These men were salt-water sports, and one man who came therefrom Newark, N. J. , was actually baiting with shrimps for fresh-waterbass and had no less than eight hooks upon his line, all baited withshrimps. This man also told me that there were no decent fish in thelake, and strange to say, this appears to be the general opinion ofthe few visitors. 

I met one good fly fisherman a year ago, who had several finebeauties on the bank. He had taken his stand behind my tree before Iarrived, and he was an artist. We became good friends and promised tomeet again, but have not done so as yet. He agreed with me that thelake was full of beautiful fish, and that they were a trifle hard tocatch, which fact we both agreed was very good for the interests ofthe true lovers of the art of angling. 

Another fine place for bass within an easy distance of New York isGreenwood Lake, which lies half in New York and half in New Jersey. It is on the Erie railroad and has several good hotels and a clubhouse open during the summer. Guides are to be had at a moderatefigure, and the fishing during the last three seasons has been good. 

Lake Ronkonkoma, Long Island, is another good fishing ground. Takethe Long Island railroad to the depot at Ronkonkoma; from therestages run to the lake during the season. Distance, about two miles. 

Tuxedo Park is confined to members of the Tuxedo Park Club, and has afine supply of large and lively bass, which take a fly remarkablywell. 

At Lake Hopatcong, N. Y. , bass are plentiful, but without a guidelittle good is to be done. It lies on the Morris and Essex railroad, two hours ride from Hoboken. During the summer a very good house, theHotel Breslin, is open. This hotel was first opened last year, isexceedingly moderate in its charges, is well fitted throughout, andis by far the best house of them all. There are several guides at theLake, the best average of them being Morris Decker, who has an islandin the lake on which he lets out tents to camping parties, supplyingthem with all necessaries at reasonable terms. He is well posted inthe various feeding grounds, and with him good sport is a certainty, if the weather is right. There are some very large bass here. Mr. Eugene C. Blackford has caught several at four and a half pounds, andfive and a quarter pounds. One was caught three years ago weighingeight pounds two ounces. There are plenty of good pickerel, andanglers are but little annoyed by sun-fish or eels. There is a finefishing club-house on Bertrand Island, which is very exclusive. Thebest bait here has proved to be live bait, minnows, or frogs. Now asregards bait for still-fishing, I have tried almost everything at oddtimes. 

Bass are very peculiar fish as regards feeding. Sometimes they takeone bait right along all day, and at other times will change morning, noon, and night, also from sunshine to cloud. I generally start inthe early morning with grasshoppers, and if that does not suit them, I vary it to the helgramite--known to naturalists as the larvæ of thehorned corydalis, locally called "dobsons, " "dobsell, " "hellion, ""crawler, " "kill-devil, " etc. --a live minnow, small green frog, smallbull-head, or a "lamper"--local name for small lamprey eel. 

The dobson is the most stable bait for still fishing, and a good planis to pass a piece of silk under the shield in the back and then passthe hook through that; the same scheme is equally good withgrasshoppers. Towards evening, I found worms a very good bait, exceptwhen rain threatened. 

In using a minnow, I pass the hook up through the lower lip and outthe nostril; it then lives a long time. Some anglers hook throughboth lips, the lower one first. Hooked either way, a dead minnowmoves like a live one. I always treat a minnow as Izaak Walton spokeof a frog, "as if I loved him. "

The angler cannot be too careful of his minnows. I change the waterfrequently, not waiting for them to come up to breathe; it is thentoo late, and they cannot be resuscitated. In hot weather I place apiece of ice in flannel on the top of the pail. A little salt addedto the water is a great improvement, about as much as will lie on asilver quarter, to two gallons of water. Fifty minnows to a fivegallon pail with a handful of weeds to keep the fish from bruisingthemselves, is about the right proportion of fish to space. 

Of all baits the old Florida "bob, " I think, is still the mosteffective. It was mentioned by Bertram, in 1764, and is still used. It is made by tying three hooks back to back, invested with a pieceof deer's tail somewhat in the manner of a large hackle, studded withscarlet feathers, forming a tassel or tuft similar to that used onthe trolling spoon. If this be thrown with a sweeping surface drawunder trees or bushes, it is almost irresistible. 

On the spoon I always run a lamper or a minnow, and for slow water, like the stream at Milton, or for lake fishing, I manufacture one asfollows: A spoon not more than three quarters of an inch in length. If you cannot buy one so small, get one made by some working jewelleror metallist. Then slide a round black bead as large as a pea on yourline just above your hook, letting the spoon be above it. This willbe found to spin in the slowest water, and, as every bass fisherknows, the slower the rate of progression, the better, so long as thespoon is spinning. I seldom use any sinker at Milton Lake, therebeing little or no current, and the trees as a rule keep off anywind. In the stream I generally drift down, letting my line float infront of the boat, and getting well down stream troll back up stream, to drift down again. For the benefit of the tyros I may here remark, that success in trolling for bass, I think, depends largely upon aperfect knowledge of the depth of water, and that the bait should bekept about eighteen inches from the bottom all the way. I study thepools in my favorite streams, locating them by trees, etc. , on thebank, and then judge the depth my bait lies at by the angle at whichmy line runs from my mouth or pole to the water. This will, with alittle practice, tell me at what depth my bait is swimming. Dobsonsand small bull-heads I obtain by striking the large rocks in therifts and shallows with another large stone, and setting a net fixedupon a bowed stick behind it. The bull-heads and dobsons will float, stunned, into its meshes. I have also found them clinging to oldspiles supporting a dam, or submerged stonework. They may be keptalive any length of time if placed in a can containing rotten wood. They are the best shallow water bait for still fishing. My experienceis that it pays better to buy bait than hunt for it, which takes uptime and tires one. 

An all important point is the best day for fishing from a weatherpoint of view. We all know the varied ideas and superstitions offishermen, and truly there is a great deal to be said in favor ofmany of the theories when backed by actual observation. 

Bass are found in different localities at different times; in theearly part of the season they will be found on the rifts where, ofcourse, the water is warmest; the best bait at this time is thehelgramite and larvæ; as the season advances they will move to thedeeper still water that lies under the bushes and trees, takinginsects and flies; and later still, they will be found in the deepholes, lying under rocky ledges, or where gravel has fallen from thebanks and been washed away by the spring freshets. At this period thebest bait is small minnows, crayfish, molluscs, etc. Yet withoutrhyme and reason, I find they may at any time be found in deep waterone day and in the shallows the next. 

As a rule I fish the shallows until the reeds, rushes, and otheraquatic plants fringing the deeper waters are well grown; then I tryamong them, finding flies give the best sport. 

For bait fishing, it really does not appear to make much differencewhat weather is around, so that the wind is not a cold or chilly one. The fish in deep water are not so easily affected as those in theshallows, and very good sport may be had even in a stiff breeze, ifmoderately warm and fine. In fact _some wind_ is necessary for blackbass fishing, and it is better to have too much than none at all. Onereason for this is, that wind ruffles the surface of the water andrenders it more difficult for the fish to see the angler. 

This is a point of greater importance than is commonly supposed. Fishboth see and hear well, and the idea that they cannot see is basedupon the great difference visible between an artificial fly and areal one. As a matter of fact few men could tell the differencebetween them _when in the water_, the surface being covered withfroth and suds from an eddy or foam and bubbles from a rapid, thesurface ruffled by a fresh breeze, and shadowed by drifting clouds. Ihave frequently seen bass dart like an arrow and seize the bait froma distance of thirty feet. A sombre suit of clothes, the hue of whichmingles with the foliage or verdure, is a wise precaution, for fishundoubtedly see, and see remarkably well. 

How often have we seen a bright glistening substance like a sleevebutton or a coin, dropped into water and swallowed immediately? Ihave known bass to be caught on a bare bright hook, and the funnystories one laughs at about wintergreen berries and fish scalesproving attractive bait are not so much out of probability. 

In the Southern States a belief exists that bass are always on thefeed when the moon is above the horizon, particularly at rise andset; many old experienced fishermen will only fish during the lastquarter until the new moon. The same variety of ideas exist regardingrain; one angler believes that bass will not bite before a rain, another during a rain, and still another after a rain. As a matter offact they feed irrespective of rain, but of course we have all foundthe best time is undoubtedly just _after_ a rain, because of thegreat number of insects and larvæ that are washed or shaken into thewater from the overhanging branches of trees and bushes. 

One reason why they do not take the bait so well just _before_ therain is because of the lull that takes place, causing the water tobecome flat and still, so rendering objects, especially the angler, more distinct. The bass is a very wary fish, and requires but littleto make them uneasy and shy. Night and morning is the best time forbait fishing, unless the weather be cold; then from about 3 to 6 p. M. For fly fishing, two hours after sunrise and one hour or twobefore dark will be found the most tempting time. 

In lake fishing it is always best to run out to the deep water andfish in towards the shallows or feeding grounds, as the boat being inthe deeper water is not so conspicuous to the fish in the shallows. When a bass is hooked, I always work toward deep water, so as to playthe fish freely and avoid snags, rocks, weeds, etc. 

If fishing from a bank, I get as near the level of the water aspossible, and when a fish is hooked, I head at once to the deepestwater practicable. 

I find it a good plan to let the bass have the bait from two to tenseconds, according to the way he takes it; then strike at once, giving him line freely, but keeping the thumb on the reel as a drag. Click reels are an abomination. I never jerk the rod, but hook with atwist of the wrist, remembering the golden rule that from the momenta bass takes the bait until he is landed _the line must be kepttight_, as one second of slack line will lose him. The point of therod I keep bent by the pull of the fish, which is made to fight forevery inch of line. I reel in whenever practicable and kill the fishon the line. 

I never let a fish get among the weeds; I coax him off if possible, but if this is not practicable, I give him the butt, and either gethim away or break the pole, which is preferable to losing the fish byweeds or snags. When thoroughly exhausted, I land him, of course, butam never in a hurry. If a pole net be used I sink it under him andgently lift it until the fish falls into it. 

In order to appreciate black bass fishing to the full, considerableattention most assuredly must be paid to suitable tackle. Any boy maycatch sun-fish, suckers, or trout with a bean pole, a piece of cordfor a line and a rude nondescript bait. Black bass are a fish of anentirely different type, and the day when a black bass rod wasconsidered to mean one weighing two pounds and measuring sixteenfeet, with a chalk line, and a reel like a small clock, is delegatedto the far off past of ten years ago. Some few of the old anglersmade their own rods, and scored heavily in their takes of fish, tothe wonder and amazement of the other fishermen who still adhered tothe old heavy pattern. 

My idea of the best rod for black bass fishing is the happy mediumbetween the trout fly rod, and the trout bait rod. The one Igenerally use is eight feet three inches long, weighs nine ounces, isthree-jointed, the balance perfect, and the bend true from tip tobutt. It was made by H. H. Kiffe, 318 Fulton street, Brooklyn. I havekilled many bass with this rod during the past two seasons, someweighing as high as four pounds, and have also caught pickerelweighing eight pounds with the same pole. The butt is white ash, andthe second joint and tip finely selected lancewood. The butt has awound grip, and the metal tip is of the four-ring pattern, thestrongest and lightest made. I prefer standing guides. Some peopleprefer Greenheart or Wasahba for tips, but lancewood or red cedar isthe best, I think. 

The great fault in many rods is want of "back, " which results from atoo slender butt. This produces a double action in the rod, andprevents a clear satisfactory cast. In England this quality was madea specialty for salmon rods some years ago, it being supposed that itincreased the length of the cast. Recent experiences proved this tobe a fallacious idea, and such a rod required quite an education touse with any degree of accuracy. 

If a man can throw a minnow thirty yards with any degree of accuracy, he should be well satisfied, as that is more than sufficient foraverage bass fishing. 

A peculiar, but, I think, mistaken idea is that a rod should be inproportion to a man's size. One can understand this idea in regard toa gun for which a man should be measured as for a coat, but with arod it is different, and should be made to vary with the type offishing practised. The difference in weight being only a few ouncesexposes the foolishness of this theory. All that matters is thequestion of balance; if that is all right, the size or weight mattersvery little. 

A more important point is, that a cheap rod is always a dear rod, inprice alone. As in anything else, work and quality of material go foreverything, and if a good sound rod is required, a fair price must bepaid to some good maker for it. 

The line is a most important item, and it is always best to give agood price for a hand made line turned out by a good firm. Thebraided line to me is the perfection of excellence. I do not like atapered line at any price. Next to the silk line I prefer the silkgrass lines of the Japanese. 

The finest hooks in the trade are made in England, where specialattention has been paid to this industry for over two hundred years, the town of Redditch being supported almost exclusively by the hookfactories. The best are the "Sproat, " "Cork-shaped Limerick, " "RoundBend Carlisle, " and "Hollow Point Aberdeen. " The hook is of the mostvital importance to the fisherman, and the best shape is that wherethe point of the barb is turned round towards the shank. First classhooks are always japanned or black; the inferior ones are blued, andthese, if subjected to a heavy strain will straighten right out. Theblack bass is extremely liable to cause this, as it always struggleshard both in and out the water from the moment of hooking to thefinal gasp. A hook with the proper bend will never pierce foul, butwill strike right through the mouth, never springing out. 

Regarding flies, every man has his own opinions and fancies. My ownfavorites are the "Marston, " "W. H. Hammett, " "Keader, " "SilverIbis, " "Vermont, " "Imperial, " "La Belle, " "Royal Coachman, " "BlueJay" and "Claret, " made by C. F. Orvis, of Manchester, Vt. 

As to spoons, most people use far too large a spoon for bass, I amsure; even the dealers do not recognize this fact, and arecontinually pressing pickerel spoons upon their customers who do nothappen to know better. My idea of a bass spoon is one no larger thanone-third of an ordinary teaspoon for the hand-line, and for rod useone even still smaller. 

Artificial insects may be used in surface fishing, but only the mostskillful anglers should expect success, as the manipulation of themrequires exceedingly delicate service. 

I believe that the black bass will eventually become the game fish ofthe country. Trout streams are drying up by reason of trees being cutdown; mills and factories being erected, and dams holding the waterhalf stagnant during half the year. This must eventually deal a deathblow to the trout, and even now the votaries of black bass fishingoutnumber those of the trout ten to one. 

One last piece of advice I offer you, is to always reel the linecarefully after fishing, as a man would clean his gun after shooting. Guide it to its place with the thumb, and run it from side to side ofthe reel like cotton on a spool. This will let it dry evenly andprevent all bunching and snarling. It is just as easy to do this asnot, and the habit once gained will become a mechanical act, and saveyou lots of trouble and time before and afford you good pleasureafter you begin fishing. 

[Illustration (decoration)]