“Hold on tight, Fishy,” said David, as he tugged away at the fish-pole.
I don’t think the fish would have minded what he said, if he could have
helped himself. But the pickerel was well hooked, and could not get
away. The pole bent as David pulled, and he was afraid it would break.
He was very careful, and after a deal of tugging he pulled the fish out
of the water, and landed him on the grass.
It was a nice large pickerel, and David felt like a great man then, for
he had caught a big fish. He put him in the basket, and put some grass
over him. Then he tried again, but could get no more pickerel; so he
put a worm on the hook for bait, and pretty soon he caught perch and
shiners enough for dinner the next day.
While he sat on the rock, David kept thinking of something. He wanted
to earn some money for his mother; and this was what he was thinking
about. He had now formed a plan by which he hoped to do it. After
winding up his line, he took the basket of fish on his arm, and
started for home.
Just before he came to the house, he took the pickerel out of the
basket, and hid it in the grass, for he did not want his mother to see
this fish. Then he carried the basket into the house, and asked his
mother if he might stay out a little while longer. She said he might;
and he ran back to the place where he had put the pickerel.
Putting the fish into another basket he had brought, he laid some fresh
grass upon it, and walked up to the village. He stopped before a large,
fine house, with a grove and a nice garden before it. He did not feel
so brave then as before, and he paused for some time before he dared to
enter the garden.
At last he pushed the gate open, and went in. As he was walking up to
the house, a great dog ran out at him, and barked as though he meant
to tear him in pieces. David was afraid of the big dog, but he did not
like to go away without seeing Mr. Lee, who lived in the fine house.
“Be still, Watch,” said the sweet voice of a little girl; “what do you
make all that noise for?”
In a moment, David saw the little girl running towards him. She was not
more than eight years old, and had such pretty curls that David thought
she must be an angel. She went up to the big dog, and with her little
hand struck him on the head, and told him again to be still.
“You are naughty, Watch, to bark at a little boy, and if you don’t hold
your tongue, you shall have no supper. Go, lie down!”
Watch wagged his great bushy tail, and kissed the little girl’s hand,
just as though he loved her very much. The blow she had given him did
not hurt him, and Watch did not seem to be afraid of her.
“What do you want, little boy?” asked Flora Lee; for that was her name.
“I have got a great big pickerel that I caught in the river; and I want
to sell him to your father,” replied David.
“Do let me see him!” said Flora.
David pulled out the grass, and the little girl looked at the fish,
said he was a monster, and did not see how David could have caught him.
“He pulled very hard,” added David, “but I got him out. He is a very
nice fish, and I heard a man say that your father was very fond of
pickerel.”
“He is.”
“My mother is poor, and has to work very hard; I want to get some money
to help her, if I can.”
“You are a nice boy to help your mother, and my father shall buy the
fish; if he won’t, I will,” said Flora.
“Thank you, little miss.”
“Now come with me, and I will take you to my pa,” added Flora.
David followed the little girl into the great house. Our hero had never
seen any thing so fine before. Flora led him into the house by the
front door, which was not the way to take a fish boy in; but she was so
eager to have David sell his fish, she did not think of that.
“O pa, here! Come quick!” said Flora, as she threw open the door of the
room where her father was reading the paper.
“What is the matter, Flora?” asked he.
“Nothing, pa; only here is a nice little boy that has got a great big
pickerel; he wants to sell it to you, pa, and you must buy it,” said
Flora, talking as fast as she could.
“Must I?” asked Mr. Lee, with a smile. “Perhaps I shall not.”
“But you must! This little boy wants to earn some money to help his
mother. She is poor, and has to work very hard.”
“That may be. What does he ask for the pickerel?”
“I don’t know;” and then Flora ran back to David.
“What is your name, little boy?”
“David White.”
Mr. Lee then came out into the entry where David was.
“Well, my little man, you have a fish to sell--have you?” said Mr. Lee.
“Yes, sir; a man told me you liked pickerel--and I came up to see if
you wanted this one,” said David, taking off his hat.
Mr. Lee looked at the fish, and said it was a very fine one. He then
asked the price, and David told him he might give him what he pleased
for it.
“Give him a good deal for it, pa,” said Flora.
“I will give him half a dollar; that is more than the fish is worth,
but he is a good boy;” and he handed him the money.
Flora showed him into the kitchen, and David gave the pickerel to the
cook.
“You must catch some more and bring them here, and my father shall buy
them,” said Flora, who went with him to the gate.
“I will if I can,” replied David; and he ran towards home with all his
might.
How happy he was! How tightly he held on to the bright half dollar in
his hand! Wouldn’t his mother open her eyes when he gave it to her! How
glad it would make her! He had never held so much money in his hand
before; and he had earned it. He felt more like a great man than he
had ever felt before. He had done a big thing--even bigger than he had
hoped when the fish first bit the hook.
Half a dollar! David wondered if any other little boy ever earned so
much money in one day.
[Illustration: “HERE’S THE JOURNAL.”]