Page From the Past: The Sorrows of the Fisherman
By Charles Heber Clark
Charles Heber Clark, though almost forgotten today, was a very successful humorist of the last half of the 1800s. “Out of the Hurly-Burly,” which he published in 1874 under the pen name Max Adeler, was his most successful work, selling upwards of a million copies. It is full of funny stories typical of the period.
The chapter on “The Sorrows of the Fisherman,” shared below, is an excellent example of the lighthearted attitude and facetiousness commonplace in nineteenth century literature. It is a story to which all catfisher folks can relate.
“I can conceive of nothing that will equal the anguish of the fisherman when he imagines he has a catfish upon his hook. His cork is drawn slowly under the surface and it goes down, down, down, until it sinks completely out of sight.
“He is certain it is a catfish—they always pull in this manner, he says—and he draws in his line gently, while the fish tugs and pulls at the other end. Gradually, v-e-r-y gradually, the fisherman pulls it in in order to be sure to keep the prey upon the hook.
“It is evidently a very large fish, and he is determined to land it through the shallow water, so that it cannot drop back and escape.
“Slowly it comes up, and just as the hook nears the surface, the angler gives a sudden jerk, and out comes a terrific snag with a dozen branches and covered with mud.
“And meanwhile, during all the fisherman’s troubles, there is that infamous small boy sitting on the opposite bank of the creek pulling up fish by the dozen with a pin-hook and some wrapping twine.”
