Fishing On The Button

August was sunny without rain, there was dense fog in the morning. The forest was a lot of mushrooms in undergrowth came across Volzanka, chanterelles, shaft, russula. By Bereznyak mushrooms, in the spruce forest Mokhovikov, dolls, Svinarev. Typing of mushrooms, and went a short way across the creek. The river flowed forest was shallow.

Passing it down the stream of stones noticed a flock of perch. The line was cut out of mountain ash rod, hook and no. Searching his pockets, found a brass button with leg. Tied and brought to the flock. Perch swam, twisted and abandoned. Moved, the fish swam and turned around. Leaving the bait on the shore went to look for bait. Turning the old foliage, he found a worm.

Going to the river, cut a couple of aspen. At the shore curved arch over the water birch whistled grouse chick. Quietly approached the shore, looked, perch swam closer stones. Picking up a fishing pole, began to think, to accommodate the worm. In the button hole was great, and fishing line, folded in half, passed freely. The line loop in the hole, a piece of worm pinned to it. Waving his fishing rod attachment sent closer to the flock. Perch darted, and the biggest swallowed a button and then spat it. Worm no. Repeat cast, flock rushes again, a button appears and disappears. Without hope pull rod from the water, fluttering on the line perch. Okun, swallowing a button, eaten the worm, but it threw over their gills. So they were caught seven perch. From the bushes came a cough. I looked and saw two happy faces. These were the men who work with me. They asked what I catch. I showed my rod and gave it to them. They immediately set about catching, and I went home. The next day at work they said they stayed a half-day with my fishing pole, but caught nothing. It turned out they were caught without a worm on a bare button.