BOTCHAN
“Hard to fish sea-breams in six fathoms,” said Red Shirt as he dropped a line into the water. The old sport appeared to expect to fetch some bream. Bravo!
“It wouldn’t be hard for you. Besides it is calm,” Clown fawningly remarked, and he too dropped a line. The line had only a tiny bit of lead that looked like a weight. It had no float. To fish without a float seemed as nearly reasonable as to measure the heat without a thermometer, which was something impossible for me. So I looked on. They then told me to start, and asked me if I had any line. I told them I had more than I could use, but that I had no float.
“To say that one is unable to fish without a float shows that he is a novice,” piped up Clown.
“See? When the line touches the bottom, you just manage it with your finger on the edge. If a fish bites, you could tell in a minute. There it goes,” and Red Shirt hastily started taking out the line. I wondered what he had got, but I saw
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