“Dave’s is bigger,” boasted Joel, strutting off. “Hoh! your fish is a squinching little one, Ezekiel Henderson.”
“I shall catch one now,” announced Peletiah, going pompously off over the stepping-stones, and carrying his fish-pole with a careful hand.
Joel dashed wildly past him, reaching the big stone first. “This is my place,” he declared; “I found it.”
“I shall stand on that stone,” declared Peletiah decidedly, and crowding up to get both feet on it.
As there wasn’t room for more than one, the two boys couldn’t raise their arms enough to swing the fish lines, so they whirled around and around, each trying to get the best place for their feet. At last Peletiah made an unlucky movement, his foot slipped and in he splashed, fish-pole and all.
“I’ll pull you out,” cried Joel, in the greatest dismay, bending over the pool. O dear, if the parson’s son should drown!
“Dave caught that. Dave caught that all by himself!”—Page [271].
“I don’t want you to,” said Peletiah, getting up and paddling to the stepping-stones. Then he marched over them in great dignity, and dripping water dreadfully. “I am going home, and I shall tell my mother how you crowded me off the big stone.”
Joel deserted the big stone by a single bound.