“Because that one you lent me has sunk,” mourned Lily.
“For goodness’ sake!” shrieked Bobby. “You’ve got a bite!”
She dropped her own pole, ran to the amazed Lily, and dragged in a big bullpout—sometimes called “catfish”—that was sulking in the mud at the bottom, with Lil’s hook firmly fastened in its jaws.
Lil shrieked. She would not touch the wriggling, black fish. She was afraid of being “horned,” she said!
Bobby put her foot on the fish and managed to 106 extract the hook. Then she baited the hook again and bade Lil try her luck once more.
But the amateur fisherman was doomed to ill-luck on this occasion. She had scarcely dropped the bait into the water, when a fierce little head appeared right at the surface. It swallowed the bait—hook and all—at a gulp, and swam right toward the shore where Lil stood.
She began to squeal again: “A snake! a snake! Oh, Bobby, I’m deathly afraid of snakes.”
“So am I,” rejoined Bobby. “But you won’t catch a snake in the water with a hook and line.”
“I’ve caught one!” gasped the frightened Lil.
“Gee!” growled Bobby. “You’re more trouble than a box of bald-headed monkeys. What is the matter—Oo! it’s a snapper!”