"Sure," it was Frank's turn to be sarcastic. "Don't you know that's a part
of every dough boy's outfit--so he can go fishing for the Huns?"
"Peace, peace, my children," entreated Betty plaintively. "Can't we ever
talk about anything without getting into an argument?"
"But this isn't an argument; it's a suggestion," said Allen. "Though I
expect the scorn and ridicule of an unthinking populace. Perhaps you have
heard of the old-fashioned, but sometimes effective, string and bent pin?"
The boys shouted, and Allen bent upon them a pitying glance.
"It is even as I expected," he said sorrowfully. "Well, I have done my
best--"
"I say old man," Roy interrupted suddenly, proving an unexpected ally,
"I'm for you. Of course we won't get anything, but it will be an
adventure. And gee, some fresh fish would taste good!"
So they went to work, eager as children on a lark. The girls managed to
furnish enough pins for the hooks, and when the available string gave out,
the boys made use of stout, withy vines as substitutes.
And, strange as it may seem, they actually were successful. The little
stream proved to be full to overflowing with fish, small to be sure, but
still eatable.
"Gee, I never saw anything like it!" cried Roy as he excitedly pulled out
one fish after another. "They seem to be eager to be caught. And to think
that we actually scoffed at the idea."
"That's what genius always has to bear," put in Allen, resignedly, while
Betty gave him a side-wise glance from under her long lashes.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60