Patient Fisherman

(A writing to Dewey Gillespie from a very respected friend AJH)

About eight o'clock on a fine morning in the summer I set out on a visit to a friend, at the distance of approximately twenty miles.  Passing the Mill Stream, where a young gentleman was angling off of the bridge, I inquired if he had caught anything. “No, sir,” said he. “I have not been here long enough - only two hours.”         

On my return in the afternoon I found him fixed to the identical spot where I had left him, and again inquired if he had any sport.  “Very good, Sir” said he.  “I have just caught my first trout.”