Rob looked at his basket. It was not much more than half full.
"I can't fish any more," he said: "my fingers hurt so. Don't let's eat up any more. We can have a good supper when we get home. Let's keep all these to sell."
"Of course we will, Rob," said Nelly, quite ashamed: "I was a pig."
"Pigs don't eat trout, I guess," said Rob laughing.
"No," said Nelly; "but they always want more. I was a real pig. Now let's hurry home. I'm afraid we're a long way off."
"Well, they know we're fishing," said Rob: "they won't worry. It's good mamma's got over worrying about my falling into the creek."