“Oh-h-h-h! Pa-a-a-a,” said Philip.
And “Oh-h-h! Uncle,” remonstrated Fred.
But Mr Inglis was inexorable, for the afternoon was passing away, and the evening closing in; so the spoils were collected and placed in the basket, when it was found that Fred’s eel had disappeared, having crawled out, and, no doubt, wriggled through the grass into the lake again. However, there was a very fair basket of fish to take home; and, when all the tackle had been packed up, and they returned to the yard and placed the things in the dog-cart, the horse was put to, and, freshened with his long rest, he made the wheels spin merrily round, and the dust fly back in a cloud from his heels, as he trotted homeward as fast as he could, well knowing that there was a snug, clean stable waiting for him, and plenty of fresh hay and sweet corn to enjoy after his long journey.
The sport of the day formed a never-tiring theme for conversation during the ride home; every finny captive being exalted into almost the importance of a whale. The only person at all dissatisfied with the day’s proceedings was Harry, who rather felt that his want of success was owing to the lack of perseverance. However, he made vows of future attention to everything he attempted, and was drawing a very brightly-coloured plan for the future, when home was reached, and Mrs Inglis seen waiting in the porch to view the fruits of their day’s angling.
Chapter Nineteen.
Old Sam’s Troubles.—A sad Story.
“Now, I don’t care whether you gets punished or not; but I means to tell master, for you all oughter know better, and it ain’t right.”
“But I tell you we didn’t do it, Sam,” said Harry.