THE LONE FISHERMAN.
“Look!”
“Where?”
“On the corner. It’s another one of them!”
“It’s Browning!”
“Sure!”
“What is he doing?”
“Fishing, by the Lord Harry—fishing in the street! That is the most ludicrous spectacle yet. Ha! ha! ha!”
A burst of laughter came from the little band of students who had been making their way along one of New Haven’s principal streets and come upon this astonishing spectacle:
Bruce Browning sat there on the corner, perched on a high stool, dressed like a fisherman, with a sailor’s “sou’wester” on his head, and rubber boots on his feet, gravely pretending to fish in the street with a pole and line.