BAD LUCK.
John went down to the brook to catch a mess of fish. He took off his boots, took his seat on the bank, and threw out his line.
The fishes took John's bait. He could see them dart at the bait as fast as he threw it in; but they did not take his hook.
While he watched them, some one touched him on the arm. It was his sister Jane.
"How many have you caught, John?" said she. "I'll help you take them home."
"Thank you," said John. "We shall not have much of a load. I have had bad luck."
There were three men a mile down stream, who did full as well as John did. Here is a sketch of them.
