"I'll never be cornered, you can depend on that. I'll try it alone to-day, and if I cannot learn whether we are suspected, then we'll capture the mail."
CHAPTER XX.
A DAY'S SPORT ALONG THE BEECH FORK.
Patter, patter, let it pour,
Patter, patter, let it roar;
O'er the housetop let it gush,
Down the hillside let it rush.
'Tis a welcome April shower,
And 'twill wake the sweet May flower.
Thus mused Owen as he sat late one afternoon husking corn, while the pelting rain overhead recalled some old nursery rhymes which he had learned by heart when a mere child. "No, it isn't April yet, and it will be a long time before we have May flowers. It's about the middle of March; I reckon the black-perch ought to bite now. It will be too wet to plow this week; so I'll ask father to let Martin and me go a-fishing." And he worked hard at his task to have the corn shelled before dark.
"Why, father, it's time to fish for black-perch," said he to Mr. Howard, who appeared at the door of the corn crib.
"I reckon it's time for you to have that corn ready for the mill," replied the farmer.
"I'll finish it to-day, take it to the mill to-morrow—and then may Martin and I go fishing on Thursday?" asked Owen.
"What about that field along the river to be plowed?" inquired the farmer. "You are getting to be a big boy now, and must be prepared to do your share of the work on the farm."