When Selma saw what the old fellow was doing, she burst out laughing. She knew it was not very polite, but she could not help it.
"What's the matter?" said he, turning quickly toward her.
"I'm sorry I laughed at you, sir," said Selma, "but that's no way to fish."
"Much you know about it," said the dwarf. "This is the only way to fish. You let your pole float, with a piece of bait on a hook fastened to the big end of the pole. Then you fasten a line to the little end. When a fish bites, you haul in the pole by means of the string."
"Have you caught anything yet?" asked Selma.
"No, not yet," replied the dwarf.
"Well, I'm sure I can fish better than that. Would you mind letting me try a little while?"
"Not at all—not at all!" said the dwarf, handing the line to Selma. "If you think you can fish better than I can, do it by all means."
Selma took the line and pulled in the pole. Then she unfastened the hook and bait which was on the end of the pole, and tied it to the end of the line, with a little piece of stone for a sinker. She then took up the pole, threw in the line, and fished like common people. In less than a minute she had a bite, and, giving a jerk, she drew out a fat little fish as long as her hand.
"Hurrah!" cried the little old man, giving a skip in the air; and then, turning away from the stream, he shouted, "Come here!"