“David White.”
Mr. Lee then came out into the entry where David was.
“Well, my little man, you have a fish to sell—have you?” said Mr. Lee.
“Yes, sir; a man told me you liked pickerel—and I came up to see if you wanted this one,” said David, taking off his hat.
Mr. Lee looked at the fish, and said it was a very fine one. He then asked the price, and David told him he might give him what he pleased for it.
“Give him a good deal for it, pa,” said Flora.
“I will give him half a dollar; that is more than the fish is worth, but he is a good boy;” and he handed him the money.
Flora showed him into the kitchen, and David gave the pickerel to the cook.
“You must catch some more and bring them here, and my father shall buy them,” said Flora, who went with him to the gate.
“I will if I can,” replied David; and he ran towards home with all his might.