Minutes went by.
The brook leaped and sang on its way the air brought the sweet odours of
mosses and ferns; the leaves flapped idly overhead; you could hear every
little sound. For there sat Daisy and there stood Sam, as still as the
stones. Time went by. At last a sigh came from Daisy's weary little
body, which she had not dared to move an inch for half an hour.
[Illustration: HILLSDALE.]
"Tain't no good, Miss Daisy," whispered Sam.
"I can't keep it still," said Daisy under her breath, as if the fishes
would hear and understand her.
"Suppos'n you try t'other bait, Miss Daisy."
"What bait?"
"O t'other kind, Miss Daisy. Will I put it on for you to try?"
Daisy sat awhile longer however, in silence and watching, until every
joint was weary and her patience too. Then she left the rod in Sam's
hands and went up to see what Preston was doing. He was some distance
higher up the stream. Slowly and carefully Daisy crept near, till she
could see his basket, and find out how much he had in it. That view
loosed her tongue.
"Not one yet, Preston!" she exclaimed.
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