Nothing more happened to her cork, and after guarding it for some time, while her companions were pulling out fish right along, she hopped up, and saying: “I shan’t fish any more; I’m going to find Bob and look for flowers,” she tripped back into the woods.
Ned lifted her hook and glanced at it.
“Why, your hook isn’t baited!” he called after her. “No wonder you didn’t catch anything.”
“I don’t care,” answered Zu-zu. “I hate to see them flop so.”
Ned baited it and let it down again.
“We’ll give you all that are caught on it, anyway,” he said.
Each of the boys was fishing with three hooks on a line; and the perch bit so boldly that often three were hauled out at a time, with others chasing them clear to the surface, trying to take the worm from their mouths.
Sometimes a round sunfish elbowed a perch out of the road, and grabbed the bait, only to meet a sudden fate.
Zu-zu’s pole and hook and line, attended to now by Tom and now by Ned, added to the general collection—and very nearly did more!
“Tom! Grab Zu’s pole—quick! I can’t!” warned Ned, abruptly, himself engaged in safely landing two large perch.