FISHERMEN
"I say, Gadsby," said Mr. Smith, as he entered a fishmonger's with a lot of tackle in his hand, "I want you to give me some fish to take home with me. Put them up to look as if they'd been caught today, will you?"
"Certainly, sir. How many?"
"Oh, you'd better give me three or four—mackerel. Make it look decent in quantity without appearing to exaggerate, you know."
"Yes, sir. You'd better take salmon, tho."
"Why? What makes you think so?"
"Oh, nothing, except that your wife was here early this morning and said if you dropped in with your fishing-tackle I was to persuade you to take salmon, if possible, as she liked that kind better than any other."
BELLEVILLE—"Is Glenshaw getting ready for the fishing season?"
BUTLER—"Well, I saw him buying an enlarging device for his camera."
A returned vacationist tells us that he was fishing in a pond one day when a country boy who had been watching him from a distance approached him and asked. "How many fish yer got, mister?"
"None yet," he was told.
"Well, yer ain't doin' so bad," said the youngster. "I know a feller what fished here for two weeks an' he didn't get any more than you got in half an hour."
Jock MacTavish and two English friends went out on the loch on a fishing-trip, and it was agreed that the first man to catch a fish should later stand treat at the inn. As MacTavish was known to be the best fisherman thereabouts, his friends took considerable delight in assuring him that he had as good as lost already.
"An', d'ye ken," said Jock, in speaking of it afterward, "baith o' them had a guid bite, an' wis sae mean they wadna' pu in."
"Then you lost?" asked the listener.
"Oh, no. I didna' pit ony bait on my hook."