Fishin Jimmy | Page 4

it same 's 't
was yest'day, an' I shall rec'lect it forty thousand year from now if I 'm
'round, an' I guess I shall be--I heerd--suthin'--diffunt. I was down in
the village one Sunday; it wa'n't very good fishin'--the streams was too
full; an' I thought I 'd jest look into the meetin'-house 's I went by. 'T
was the ole union meetin'-house, down to the corner, ye know, an' they
had n't got no reg'lar s'pply, an' ye never knowed what sort ye 'd hear,
so 't was kind o' excitin'.
"'T was late, 'most 'leven o'clock, an' the sarm'n had begun. There was a

strange man a-preachin', some one from over to the hotel. I never heerd
his name, I never seed him from that day to this; but I knowed his face.
Queer enough I 'd seed him a-fishin'. I never knowed he was a min'ster;
he did n't look like one. He went about like a real fisherman, with ole
clo'es an' an ole hat with hooks stuck in it, an' big rubber boots, an' he
fished, reely fished, I mean--ketched 'em. I guess 't was that made me
liss'n a leetle sharper 'n us'al, for I never seed a fishin' min'ster afore.
Elder Jacks'n, he said 't was a sinf'l waste o' time, an' ole Parson
Loomis, he 'd an idee it was cruel an' onmarciful; so I thought I 'd jest
see what this man 'd preach about, an' I settled down to liss'n to the
sarm'n.
"But there wa'n't no sarm'n; not what I 'd been raised to think was the
on'y true kind. There wa'n't no heads, no fustlys nor sec'ndlys, nor fin'ly
bruthrins, but the first thing I knowed I was hearin' a story, an' 't was a
fishin' story. 'T was about Some One--I had n't the least idee then who 't
was, an' how much it all meant--Some One that was dreffle fond o'
fishin' an' fishermen, Some One that sot everythin' by the water, an'
useter go along by the lakes an' ponds, an' sail on 'em, an' talk with the
men that was fishin'. An' how the fishermen all liked him, 'nd asked his
'dvice, an' done jest 's he telled 'em about the likeliest places to fish; an'
how they allers ketched more for mindin' him; an' how when he was
a-preachin' he would n't go into a big meetin'-house an' talk to rich
folks all slicked up, but he 'd jest go out in a fishin' boat, an' ask the
men to shove out a mite, an' he 'd talk to the folks on shore, the fishin'
folks an' their wives an' the boys an' gals playin' on the shore. An' then,
best o' everythin', he telled how when he was a-choosin' the men to go
about with him an' help him an' larn his ways so 's to come a'ter him, he
fust o' all picked out the men he 'd seen every day fishin', an' mebbe
fished with hisself; for he knowed 'em an' knowed he could trust 'em.
"An' then he telled us about the day when this preacher come along by
the lake--a dreffle sightly place, this min'ster said; he 'd seed it hisself
when he was trav'lin' in them countries--an' come acrost two men he
knowed well; they was brothers, an' they was a-fishin'. An' he jest
asked 'em in his pleasant-spoken, frien'ly way--there wa'n't never sech a
drawin', takin', lovin' way with any one afore as this man had, the

min'ster said--he jest asked 'em to come along with him; an' they lay
down their poles an' their lines an' everythin', an' jined him. An' then he
come along a spell further, an' he sees two boys out with their ole father,
an' they was settin' in a boat an' fixin' up their tackle, an' he asked 'em if
they 'd jine him, too, an' they jest dropped all their things, an' left the
ole man with the boat an' the fish an' the bait an' follered the preacher. I
don't tell it very good. I 've read it an' read it sence that; but I want to
make ye see how it sounded to me, how I took it, as the min'ster telled
it that summer day in Francony meetin'. Ye see I 'd no idee who the
story was about, the man put it so plain, in common kind o' talk,
without any come-to-passes an' whuffers an' thuffers, an' I never
conceited 't was a Bible narr'tive.
"An' so fust thing I knowed I says to myself, 'That 's the kind o' teacher
I want. If I could come acrost a man like that, I 'd jest foller him, too,
through thick an' thin.' Well, I can't put