" A gentleman giving the name of Castwell says he is a fisherman, your holiness, and has 'Fly-fishers Club, London,' on his card, said the attendant angel. "Hm-hm," says St. Peter. "Fetch me the ledger with his account." St. Peter perused it. "Hm-hm," said St. Peter. "Show him in." Mr. Castwell entered cheerfully and offered a cordial right hand to St. Peter. "As a brother of the angle ---" he bagan. "Hm-hm" said St. Peter. " I am not sure I shall not appeal to you in vain for special consideration in connection with the quarters to be assigned to me here." "Hm-hm," said St. Peter. "I have been looking at your account from below." That's where your quarters will be. Castwell got to his quarters and wanted to do some fishing, The Keeper was now in charge of Castwell.. Castwell fished for hours, but the rise wouldn't stop. "How long is this confounded rise going to last?: inquired Castwell. I suppose it will end soon?; No sir said the Keeper. "What, isn't there a slack hour in the afternoon?" " No afternoon, sir", said the Keeper. " What? Then what about the evening rise?" "No evening," Sir. "Well, I'll knock off now. I must have had about thirty brace from that corner. May'nt I stop at night?" No night, said the Keeper. You mean I've got to go on catching these damed two and a half pounders at this corner for ever and ever? The Keeper nodded. "HELL !" said Mr. Castwell. "Yes", said the Keeper.

G.E.M. Skues
"Well, I'm -------!

--


****************  ><((((((((º>  **************
JIMMY D. MOORE [EMAIL PROTECTED] North Zone Fishing Editor - Texas Fish & Game Mag, Author - Moon Holler Misfits Fishing & Hunting Club, Humorist, Past VP Guadalupe River Trout Unlimited, Member TOWA, Retired Scout Exec. BSA. ***************** <º))))))))>< *************






Reply via email to