AN AGONIZING LESSON
ON HOW TO FISH

DeBORDIEU COLONY, S.C. -- The tireless Dr. Soup, ever eager to turn the fruits of his leisure to the advantage of others, has sent in this rather polished little Izaak Waltonish essay:

What is fishing? Fishing is the process by which a large animal uses a small animal to catch and eat a third, middle-sized animal, the fish.

The technique, though very ancient in the history of man, is far from instinctual. Hence these notes for absolute beginners.

How to fish: Animal No. 1, Man, finds a piece of bent steel, sharpened and barbed, and sticks this into the living body of the small animal, Animal No. 2, the Worm. The worm, though vertebrally challenged, does not seem to have any organized support group or vocal constituency. Sticking bent steel into its body can therefore be done more or less with impunity.

This causes No. 2 considerable pain, and it immediately goes into the death agony, writhing and screaming. Or it would be screaming, if it had better means of producing sound. It is also vocally challenged. The screaming of a worm is virtual screaming. You would need very acute ears.

It is in the interest of No. 1 (you) that the mortal agony of No. 2 continue long enough to look appetizing. In any case, even if 2 should have passed on, you now dangle it, or its earthly envelope, in the water before Animal No. 3, the Fish, hoping that the latter is feeling hungry and that you have selected the sort of worm it fancies. Usually 3 will swallow 2.

When this happens, No. 1 gives a sharp jerk on the barbed steel, the point of which sticks into some part of 3's body ... the throat or the lips or the cheeks or something. If it does, 1 pulls 3 out of its natural environment, the water, onto the land.

The shock of getting a steel hook snagged in the esophagus is, of course, bad enough, but to be yanked from home into a new and inappropriate environment will probably kill the fish at once. Death is in any event imminent. If death should, however, be inconveniently slow in coming, 1 can of course hold 3 by the tail and beat the life out of it against the deck. A small boy (No. 1 in our system) will generally find this spectacle edifying, though it can interfere with a normal appetite for seafood.

Now you have two small dead animals on your hands. You discard whatever you can find of the worm, leaving one small dead animal to be dealt with.

If you do not eat No. 3 on the spot and prefer to keep it until you have a better appetite, you must contrive to keep it as cold as possible. This is necessary because of a whole bunch of really small animals that have been out of the picture up to this point. It is easy to ignore them most of the time since they can be seen only with a microscope. These are bacteria (collectively, Animal No. 4.) The moment No. 3 gives up the ghost, No. 4 falls to with tiny knives and forks and begins to consume it, causing in the process one of the poorer-quality smells known here below.

But 4 works slowly at low temperatures, so you should have time to get 3 back to some stove or other source of high heat, suddenly raise the temperature, and then eat the works -- the fish, the bacteria, and whatever is left of the worm. Delicious! But do remember to bury what you don't eat.