HE GOT A BITE.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3755, 28 July 1883, Page 4

HE GOT A BITE.

On Sunday last Deacon Slytippler was porsuaded by some wicked friends to go iishing. "What! iisli upon Sundayr" said the Into church dignitary, "never." A hint, however, that the boys were going to have a good time overcame his religious scruples, and eight o'clock found him at the depot of the Saucelito bout, armed to the teeth with rod, line, and some suspicious protuberances -which looked very like bottles. His appearance was hailed with shout* by the assembled fisherman, and he soon found himself the centre of attraction. The deacon's ideas of fishing were somewhat crude, and his uparatus was proportionately original. It consisted of a pole made out of a clothes-lino prop, a ball of twine unci a sharkhook. AmvedatTamalpaisStationithe deacon started across the marsh to the place ■whorelarge salmon troutwere said to abound. His rig was the cause of much fun but he did not mind, and went to work with a will. The h'sh did not bite, but the deacon drank and was soon fast asluep upon the bank, home of the boys who had uomu Into happened to mention having- seen a Chinaman on the railroad lino with a large sturgeon on his buck, unci ono of the party proposed that it .should be purchased and fixed onto the end of the somnolent deacon's line. The purchase was soon effected, the fi.sh attached, mid tho deacon woke up from his slumber by shouts of: "A fish! deacon, a fish! He's too big to haul out alive; let's shoot him !" thoboys shouted, as four or live bullets pierced the dead sturgeon. A gall' was produced, and before the deacon was properly awake lie found himself the hero gi" the clay and tho happy captor :<i a J'.'Jfj

fish. Bottles were produced and that iish's health was drunk in bumpers. It was pretty late when Slytipplcr arrived home that night, but he hung on to his fish like a man. Mrs Sly tippler was in bed and asleep, but the deacon had the temerity to wako her in order to show her his fish. She would not get up, so he lugged the fish upstairs. She took one look at it and then cast a withering glance at tho befuddled fisherman. "You will never learn sense, you dunderhead," she cried, "why, that's a sturgeon—not a salmon trout!" Then tho deacon realized tho hoax, and as he dropped off into a gentle slumber murmured, " Shold, shure! "