Little May's father is a fisherman. One day he brought home the funniest
fish May ever saw. She was a little bit frightened and didn't know
whether to laugh or cry. Her papa took her up in his lap, put an arm
around her waist and held her fast with one hand while he kept a tight
hold on the fish with the other.
"See, May," he said, "what a queer fish this is. Would you think it
followed the same kind of business that papa does for a living?"
"Oh, papa!" said May; "that horrid thing a fisherman?--surely you are
joking."
"No, my daughter," said the fisherman, "it is no joke. With that queer
looking rod and line fastened to its nose it angles for other fishes. It
hides amongst the sea-weed at the bottom of the sea, and the fleshy
shreds attached to its nose, floating about in the water, act as natural
bait, and attract the unwary little fishes in its neighborhood, but the
instant one of them makes a bite at the tempting morsel it is whisked
away, and the poor fish is caught in the huge mouth of the fisherman
fish, and crushed up by its sharp teeth."
"Oh, papa!" said May, "what horrid big eyes it has; what a huge mouth,
and such awfully sharp teeth! Ugh! Put it down, please, papa, for I
really believe I am going to be frightened."
The fisherman laughed heartily, and threw the queer fish into the
basket.
[Illustration: A QUEER FISH.]