ody told ye, did they? 'Twon't take ye
long to larn how to put 'em on."

There was not a great deal to be made out of that old New-England
farmer; and his good-natured contempt for a lot of ignorant young "city
fellers," in good clothes, did not require any further expression.

They left him with a wide grin on his wrinkled face, and followed his
directions over the nearest fence; but with ideas concerning their
probable string of fish, that were rather "depressed" than "extended."

It was a long mile, but it did not contain any danger of getting lost;
and at the end of it they had quite enough of a surprise to pay them for
their trouble.

"Why, Ford, it's a beauty!"

"Dab, do you s'pose as nice a pond as that hasn't any thing in it but
pumpkin-seeds?"

"No boat that I can see," remarked Frank.

"We'll fish from the shore," said Dab. "There's a log that runs away out
in. Rocks too."

Rocks and trees and natural ruggedness all around, and some ten or a
dozen acres of clear, cold, beautiful water, with little brooks and
springs running into it, and a brook running out on the opposite shore
that would have to grow considerably before it would be fit for
mill-turning.

"Boys," said Dabney, "we've missed it!"

"How's that?" asked Ford.

"Put on the smallest hooks you've got, right away, and try for minnows.
There must be pickerel and bass here."

"Bass? Of course! Didn't he say something about seed-fish? That's what
they put in; and they weren't as big as pins when his boys came for
'em."

"Minnow-poles," as they called them, could be cut from the bushes at the
margin, and little fish could be taken at the same time that they were
trying for large ones. They found too, before long, that sometimes a
very respectable perch or bass would stoop to nibble at one of the
"elegant worms" with which Dick Lee had provided them.

"No turn of the tide to wait for here, Dab," said Ford, "and no crabs to
steal your bait off. Hey! There comes one. Perch! First game for my
hook."

"We'll stay till dark, but we'll get a good string. Frank, your cork's
under."

"Never fished with one before," said Frank. "I'll soon get the hang of
it."

That was a capital school for it, at all events; and they learned that
it might be a good thing for a little lake like that to have a bad
reputation.

"Fished out years ago. I understand now," said Dab.

"Understand what?"

"Why, those fellows in the village that sent me out here w