Meanwhile Bess had gone to the house for a long fishing-pole, and soon returned carrying it.
“We’ll fasten a hook to the end of it, and fish the teapot up,” said she.
“Ho, ho! Do you suppose it will bite like a fish?” laughed Tom.
“No, I do not, Tom Bradley. But I suppose if I tie a string to the pole, and fasten an iron hook to one end, with a stone to keep it down, that I can wiggle it round in the water till the hook catches in the handle, and then we can drag it up; that’s what I suppose,” answered Bess, preparing to carry out her design.
“There’s something in that, Bess; you’re not so stupid as you look. Give me the pole and let me try.”
“No, go and get one for yourself.”
“Where will I find the hook?”
“In the smoke-house, where I got mine.”
“Oh, get me one, too,” cried Bob.
“And me one, too,” cried Archie.