"Oh, don't trouble the water!" cried Theresa, hastily. "How can you be such a spoil-sport?"
"Spoil-sport, am I?" said Franz doggedly. "Well, perhaps I am. Now I know my titles and designations. Franz Scamp Spoil-sport."
"Better take care not to deserve them, then," said Theresa pettishly. "If you stay out here much longer, we shall breakfast without you."
And pitching her voice, which was both sweet and clear, rather high, she went towards the house, singing one of the popular national airs in praise of liberty.
Franz followed the songstress into the house; and Rudolf, who, having exchanged his worm for a smaller one, (for trout loathe large baits,) was just going to try his luck again when little Johann, running up to him, and looking on for a minute with very round eyes, exclaimed—
"Why, you mustn't do that!—Why, that's father's pet trout, that feeds out of his hand and weighs fifteen pounds! Why, that trout has lived under that stone twenty-eight years! Father'll be finely angry with you, I can tell you, if you think of eating that trout! Why, he'd as soon eat me!"
