"'Tain't my eyes then?" questioned Peaches.
"Your eyes, Miss?" asked Mickey bewildered.
"'Tain't my eyes seein' things that yours doesn't?"
Mickey took her hand and drew closer.
"Well, it isn't any wonder you almost doubt it, honey," he said. "I would too, if I hadn't ever seen it before. But I been on the trolley, and on a few newsboys' excursions, and in the car with Mr. Bruce, and I've got to walk along the str—roads some, so I know it's real. Let me show you——!"
Mickey slipped down the bank, scooped his hands full of water, and lifted them, letting it drip through his fingers. Then he made a sweep and brought up one of the fish, brightly marked as a flower, and gasping in the air.
"Look quick!" he cried. "See it good! It's used to water and the air chokes it, just like the water would you if a big fish would take you and hold your head under; I got to put it back quick."
"Mickey, lay it in my hand, just a little bit!"
Mickey obeyed while Peaches examined it hurriedly.
"Put it back!" she cried. "I guess that's as long as I'd want to be choked, while a fish looked at me."