MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT FISHING.
When I was seven years old, my father took me down to the river to fish. I had a nice new line, and a little hook that I bought of a peddler the week before. My father cut me a pole from the woods near by; and I caught a grasshopper for bait.
I tried to put the grasshopper on the hook, but I pricked my finger: so my father put it on for me. Then I threw in my line, and kept moving it up and down.
Pretty soon I thought I felt a bite, and called out to my father, "O father, I've got a fish!" I pulled it up, and what do you think I had caught? You could not guess in a week. It was my sister's old rag baby.
Frank Lynn.
