“This is queer,” muttered Farmer Brown’s boy. “I never have had to wait so long for a bite in this pool before.” He continued to keep perfectly still, as a good fisherman should, and waited patiently. Still there wasn’t a nibble. Presently, having nothing else to do, he began to take note of things, the trees, the flowers, the humming insects and at last the opposite bank, which was steep and smooth.
“Looks as if something had been sliding down there,” he muttered. “Wonder what it could have been. Funny the trout don’t bite. I hate to give up, but guess I’ll have to. I’ll go down to the next pool and try my luck there.”
So he trudged down to the next pool and a pair of sharp eyes watched him go. They were the eyes of Sammy Jay, and Sammy was chuckling under his breath. You see, he knew why Farmer Brown’s boy had caught no fish. The pool which he had just left was the very pool in the bank of which Little Joe Otter and Mrs. Otter had their home, and now there were no fat trout there. Little Joe and Mrs. Joe had caught all of them. They are especially fond of trout.
But Farmer Brown’s boy knew nothing of this. In fact, he knew very little about Little Joe Otter anyway. So he trudged on, sure that he would have better luck in the next pool. Sammy Jay followed, still chuckling. He seemed to find something a great joke.
“There are smarter fishermen in this brook than you, and I wouldn’t give much for all the fish you will catch,” he remarked to no one in particular. But he was looking at Farmer Brown’s boy, who still had no luck.
CHAPTER IX
A FAMILY FISHING PARTY
’Tis vain to sit and wish and wish
When fishing where there are no fish.
Little Joe Otter.
Farmer Brown’s boy hadn’t had one bite, not one teeny, weeny nibble, and he really didn’t know what to make of it. Many times had he fished in the Laughing Brook but never before with quite such bad luck as this.