Selma turned around to see whom he was calling to, and she perceived another gnome, who was running toward them. When he came near, she saw that he was much younger than the fisher-gnome.
"Hello!" cried the old fellow, "I've caught one."
Selma was amazed to hear this. She looked at the old gnome, who was taking the fish off the hook, as if she were astonished that he could tell such a falsehood.
"What is this other person's name?" said she to him.
"His name," said the old gnome, looking up, "is Class 60, H."
"Is that all the name he has?" asked Selma, in surprise.
"Yes. And it is a very good name. It shows just who and what he is."
"Well, then, Mr. Class 60, H," said Selma, "that old—person did not catch the fish. I caught it myself."
"Very good! Very good!" said Class 60, H, laughing and clapping his hands. "Capital! See here!" said he, addressing the older dwarf, and he knelt down and whispered something in his ear.
"Certainly," said the old gnome. "That's just what I was thinking of. Will you mention it to her? I must hurry and show this fish while it is fresh,"—and, so saying, he walked rapidly away with the little fish, and the pole and tackle.