A FAMILY FISHING PARTY
’Tis vain to sit and wish and wish
When fishing where there are no fish.
_Little Joe Otter._
Farmer Brown’s boy hadn’t had one bite, not one teeny, weeny nibble, and
he really didn’t know what to make of it. Many times had he fished in
the Laughing Brook but never before with quite such bad luck as this.
“Fishy, fishy, here’s a worm!
Watch how he will twist and squirm!
Bite him first before you look
To see if he is on a hook.”
Farmer Brown’s boy said this over twice as he tossed his bait into the
second little pool. Then he waited. He waited and waited and waited! All
good fishermen wait and wait and wait. To catch fish patience is as
necessary as bait. So Farmer Brown’s boy waited. Nothing happened;
nothing at all.
“I wonder if some one has been here before me and caught all the trout,”
thought he. “I didn’t get a nibble at the first pool and I haven’t had a
nibble at this pool. Guess I’ll have to move on.”
So he moved on towards the third pool a little farther down the Laughing
Brook. He had almost reached it when he heard a splash and then another
splash. He put down his rod and crept forward very, very carefully, so
as to make no sound. When he could see the little pool clearly he caught
his breath. Other fishermen _were_ ahead of him. In fact, a family
fishing party was right in that very pool and having better luck, much
better luck, than he had had. The members of that party were catching
fish, the very trout he had been so sure of catching when he started
out. These were the ones who had spoiled his fishing. Have you guessed
who they were? They were Little Joe Otter, Mrs. Joe and the little
Otters.
Farmer Brown’s boy kept perfectly still and held his breath. He forgot
all about his own fishing. He had seen Little Joe only once or twice
before, and then had caught only a glimpse of his brown head in the
Smiling Pool. Of course he had never seen Mrs. Joe or the two children.
Little Joe dived. He was gone so long that Farmer Brown’s boy began to
wonder what had become of him. Suddenly his brown head popped up and in
his mouth was a beautiful, speckled trout, a trout that Farmer Brown’s
boy would have been delighted to have caught.
“Gee!” exclaimed Farmer Brown’s boy under his breath.
Little Joe swam with the trout straight over to where the two little
Otters were waiting on a big flat stone at the edge of the water, fairly
dancing with excitement. Just before he reached them, Little Joe dropped
that fish. It could still swim, though not very fast.
Splash! The two young Otters were in the water after it, each eager to
be the one to catch it. They were clumsy and overeager, and you know
overeagerness often is quite as bad as being too slow. Each got in the
way of the other. The fish twisted and turned and they tried to follow.
At last, one of them made a lucky dash and proudly turned towards the
bank with the fish in his mouth. Very proud he looked. The other swam
after and tried to take the fish away from him. It looked very much as
if there might be a fight right there in that little pool in the
Laughing Brook. But just then Mrs. Joe interfered. She swam in between
the two and pushed the unsuccessful one away. He went off by himself and
sulked while the other dragged his prize out on a rock and began to eat.
A few minutes later Mrs. Joe caught another trout and this she carried
to the little Otter who had none. When she let the fish go, it could
swim only a little and so the young Otter had no trouble in catching it.
Farmer Brown’s boy wondered if it was just chance that those fish were
alive, or if they had been kept so purposely to give the young Otters a
lesson in fishing. I wonder too. Don’t you?