But the small boy did not seem to be in the least disturbed. He had just made a very pretty cast into the stream as the dog and its master appeared.
“Say! can’t you read that there sign?” demanded the man, very red in the face. The sign really was plainly to be seen, and easily read. In large black letters it said:
PRIVATE
NO FISHING ALLOWED
The angler looked at the sign on the tree unabashed and observed:
“I didn’t notice it. You see, Mister, they taught me never to read anything marked ‘Private.’”
“Well, it says ‘No fishin’ allowed,’ anyway,” snarled the farmer. 171
“But I’m not fishing aloud,” came from Short and Long, who was perfectly serious. “That’s what I’ve been kickin’ about. The other folks down stream are making so much noise that they’d give every trout in the brook nervous prostration. I tell you I came up here especially to be quiet about my fishing––”
“You may think you’re funny, youngster,” interrupted the man; “but you’re fishin’ just the same, aren’t you?”
“Not so’s you’d notice it,” declared Short and Long. “All I’ve managed to do so far is to give my fly a chance to swim. Haven’t even had a rise.”
“I’ll give yer a rise, confound ye!” roared the man, coming with a rush through the bushes. “Git out o’ there, an’ git out quick, or I’ll set this dawg on ye!”