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The pan-sized trout came flashing out of the water on the end of Doc's fly line, to his great surprise and pleasure, and was briefly held up in the air so a number of fellow fishermen could see how pretty he was. Then Doc gently released him.

"Pretty little thing," Dud yelled from across Lewis Creek.

"Thanks!" said Doc.

Dud and Doc are charter members of both the world dilemma think tank at the Mule Barn truck stop (and prone to coagulate morningly at the philosophy counter there) and the Lewis Creek Piscatorial Appreciation and Apprehension Society, which meets...well...down here at Lewis Creek.

Bert hadn't gotten a strike since he'd arrived, so he waded across and asked Doc for the secret to his success.

"Floozies," Doc said.


"To be exact, Luther's floozies," said Doc. "When I go fishing with Luther's floozies, I always do well."

"Look, Doc," Bert said, "I know Luther really well, and he loves his wife. She's terrific, you know. And I'm sure Luther wouldn't..."

Doc started laughing. "No...oh, let me show you." And he pulled out a fly that looked like a bare fly hook with red thread wrapped around it.

"That looks like a bare fly hook with red thread wrapped around it," Bert said.

"That was my first impression, too," said Doc. "But Luther told me this is a floozy, and by golly, that's what it'll be. Here, let me give you a couple."

Bert grinned and took the flies. "Can't wait to tell Maizie I went fishing with Luther's floozies. That'll tune the old girl up something fierce!"

Brought to you by the new humor book, "Ol' Slim's Views from the Porch," available at


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