When they finally started home, it was well after one o’clock, but routine school days for Janet and Helen were at an end. Exams were over and there was only the junior-senior banquet and then commencement.
Janet slept late the next morning and it was after ten o’clock when her mother finally awakened her.
“Helen and her father just phoned they are coming over. I thought you might like to go with them. After they get some worms out of the back yard they’re going fishing. I’ll put up a lunch.”
Janet hurried into her clothes and met Helen and her father as they arrived. Henry Thorne was armed with an ancient cane fishpole, had on a venerable straw hat, cracked but comfortable shoes, old overalls and a blue shirt.
“I think he’s thoroughly disreputable looking,” said Helen, laughing at her father.
“Granted, my dear, but I’m most thoroughly comfortable, which is the main thing. I wouldn’t trade this old fishing outfit for the best suit of clothes in the world.”
Janet showed them a corner of the back lot that promised to be productive of worms, and then went in the house for her own breakfast. She ate on the kitchen table while her mother packed a basket of lunch to be taken by the anglers.
It was a grand morning for a fishing expedition and especially if those going fishing really didn’t care whether they caught any fish or not. Just before they left Janet’s father arrived and hastily changed into old clothes.
“Want to go to the creek in the car?” asked John Hardy.
“Not on your life. We’re walking, both ways,” grinned Henry Thorne, and the men, the cane poles over their shoulders, started for the creek. Helen carried the can of worms and Janet took the lunch basket.