“I wager Tubby’s had a fine afternoon’s sport,” remarked Andy Bowles.
“Oh! it doesn’t take so very much to make him grin from ear to ear; and it’s some stretch, at that,” chuckled Sim.
“I think he’s a mighty fine fellow, if you asked my opinion,” remarked Ralph.
“You wouldn’t be a bit off the road there, either,” Rob told him. “Tubby has the best disposition of any boy I know. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for another fellow; and the best of it is he never stops to consider whether it’s a friend or an enemy he’s trying to help; though, for that matter, Tubby has so few enemies they hardly count.”
The object of this side talk now sauntered up. He looked rather the worse for wear, his trousers being muddy, and his face still rosy from exertion.
“Got a pretty nice mess of bass, didn’t you, fellows?” he remarked, as Sim lifted the string, and tossed the catch out of the car.
“Oh! that’s just half of all we took,” Andy hastened to explain. “You see, there were too many for our own use, and Ralph here had an old lady friend with a big family on her hands, who looks to him to keep her supplied with fresh fish; so we dropped the other string at her house on the way home. How did you come out with your frog hunting, Tubby?”
“I had just a glorious time of it, Andy,” the other replied. “Come over to the ice-house and see, for they’re keeping cool until it’s time to cook them for our supper. Better fetch the fish along with you, too, while about it.”
All of them followed him across the yard to the ice-house. This was so built that it could be used to take the place of a refrigerator; and fresh meat, butter and such things were kept there nice and sweet.
Tubby swooped down and lifted a platter that was covered with green leaves. As he removed these there were revealed several rows of “saddles,” as the long hindlegs of bullfrogs are called in the market, where they bring as much as eighty cents a pound, sometimes even more, according to supply and demand, and are considered a great delicacy by epicures.