"Not a bite," said Preston.
"I hadn't either."
"I don't believe that there are any fish," said Preston.
"O but Sam said he saw lots of them."
"Lots of them! It's the flies then. Sam!--Hollo, Sam!--Sam!--"
"Here, sir," said Sam, coming up the brook.
"Just find me some worms, will you?--and be spry. I can't get a bite."
Daisy sat down to look about her, while Preston drew in his line and
threw the fly away. It was a pretty place! The brook spread just there
into a round pool several feet across, deep and still; and above it the
great trees towered up as if they would hide the sun. Sam came presently
with the bait. Preston dressed his hook, and gave his line a swing, to
cast the bait into the pool; rather incautiously, seeing that the trees
stood so thick and so near. Accordingly the line lodged in the high
branches of an oak on the opposite side of the pool. Neither was there
any coaxing it down.
"What a pity!" said Daisy.
"Not at all," said Preston. "Here, Sam--just go up that tree and clear
the line--will you?"
Sam looked at the straight high stem of the oak, which had shot up high
before it put forth a single branch, and he did not like the job.
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