Of course, there is a quick way of deciding who shall win, you or the
fish, and that is to pull away, with might and main, straight for
shore, and undertake to drag your captive to you by sheer muscle,
brutally matching your strength against his. But if you try this, you
know that the chances are a thousand to one that you will part your
line and lose the best end of it, and your game along with it.

You can do this, if you choose, of course--this is a free country; but
if that is your way of fishing, you had better give up any little pet
idea that may be lurking about you, that heaven made you for a
fisherman. Perhaps you might make a fair superintendent of school
machines, but you ought not to fish!

Or, you may despise the fish, if you choose, and when he has left you,
you may gloat over the fact that "anyhow you have stuck something into
his gullet that will stay there, and that he can't get away from." You
may hope that the trailing line will tangle to a bush and hang the
creature. All this you may do, and yet, of what avail is it all? It
benefits neither you nor the fish!

But if you know your business you can give your game his own way,
suiting your motion to his, till you wear him out, and then he is
yours. That is good fishing, and the good thing about it is that it
gets the game!

"Dodd" was hooked. His staying away from school was the first tug that
he gave the line that caught him. Mr. Bright let him run. He ran for
three days, and then gave up on that tack. The fisher reeled in the
line and watched for the next break.