“Suddenly the line straightened. Next came a series of jerks, short and long pulls. The line sawed up and down and from side to side. I had a bite in mid-air. But no fish of my experience ever behaved in this fashion after taking a hook. For possibly two minutes the tugging continued, when the pole was twitched out of my hands and I saw it go sailing inland at a height of perhaps 30 feet. I followed the fishing tackle. Soon it caught in a clump of bushes and there the outfit remained. Seizing the pole at the butt, I began to wind up the line on the reel. Nothing else moved for some seconds, but when it became taut there was a commotion among the leaves. Then I found that I had safely secured my catch. My prisoner was a cheiropter of good size. The fishline was twisted about a twig and held the captive fast. And there it was hanging. It had swallowed the fly and also the hook, it had mistaken for the real thing while in the air.”     “Commodore,” said a young lady, meaking the abysmal silence of the listening group, “what is a cheiropter?”     “A cheiropter,” the commodore replied, “is a bat—a bat that eats insects.“ From— Iowa State Bystander. (Des Moines, Iowa), 08 Nov. 1912. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.