"
"Then run off, Sam! Make haste to Mrs. Dipper's and get
yourself dry — and don't come back till you are quite dry,
Sam."
Sam finished his piece of work, flung down the line, and with
a grateful "Thank you, Miss Daisy!" set off at a bound. Daisy
watched him running at full speed down the brook till he was
out of sight.
"Has he done it?" said Preston returning. "The rascal hasn't
put any bait on. However, Daisy, it's no use coaxing the trout
in _this_ place at present — and I haven't found any other good
spots for some distance up; — suppose we have our lunch and
try again?"
"Oh, yes!" said Daisy. "The other basket is down by my
fishing-place — it's just as pleasant there, Preston."
They went back to the basket, and a very convenient huge rock
was found on the edge of the brook, which would serve for
table and seats too, it was so large and smooth. Preston took
his place upon it, and Daisy at the other end with the basket
began to unpack.
"Napkins?" said Preston — "you have no right to be so
luxurious on a fishing party."
"Why not?"
"Why, because a fisher is a kind of a Spartan animal, while he
is about his business."
"What kind of an animal is that?" said Daisy, looking up from
her arrangements.
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