Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel sick.
What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy and lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was the use? A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do about it. Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in—well, a feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own.
“Wallace don't deserve that boy,” I says, sort of mad about I don't know what. “What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that—”
“Look there!” says Marthy, sudden. “Did you ever see anything sweeter than what that is?”
Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around in the flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a butterfly in amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just the age when a mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most care of 'em. I like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll say right here that there was something about that girl that made me feel like I'd like to own her—just like I feel about a real pretty rose, sort of covet to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that it don't git spoiled any way.
“I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May,” says Marthy, thoughtful-like. “I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was May's age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never see me takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' the chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't right, the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a girl like that—”
“If you had, what'd you do?” I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say.