te that
morning. It seemed to Little Joe that he never would come. Once he
nearly lost the fish. He had turned his head for just a minute, and when
he looked back again, the trout was nowhere to be seen. Buster couldn't
have stolen up and taken it, because such a big fellow couldn't possibly
have gotten out of sight again.

Little Joe darted over to the log and looked on the other side. There
was the fat trout, and there also was Little Joe's smallest cousin,
Shadow the Weasel, who is a great thief and altogether bad. Little Joe
sprang at him angrily, but Shadow was too quick and darted away. Little
Joe put the fish back on the log and waited. This time he didn't take
his eyes off it. At last, when he was almost ready to give up, he saw
Buster Bear shuffling along towards the Laughing Brook. Suddenly Buster
stopped and sniffed. One of the Merry Little Breezes had carried the
scent of that fat trout over to him. Then he came straight over to where
the fish lay, his nose wrinkling, and his eyes twinkling with pleasure.

"Now I wonder who was so thoughtful as to leave this fine breakfast
ready for me," said he out loud.

"Me," said Little Joe in a rather faint voice. "I caught it especially
for you."

"Thank you," replied Buster, and his eyes twinkled more than ever. "I
think we are going to be friends."

"I--I hope so," replied Little Joe.

VII

FARMER BROWN'S BOY HAS NO LUCK AT ALL

Farmer Brown's boy tramped through the Green Forest, whistling merrily.
He always whistles when he feels light-hearted, and he always feels
light-hearted when he goes fishing. You see, he is just as fond of
fishing as is Little Joe Otter or Billy Mink or Buster Bear. And now he
was making his way through the Green Forest to the Laughing Brook, sure
that by the time he had followed it down to the Smiling Pool he would
have a fine lot of trout to take home. He knew every pool in the
Laughing Brook where the trout love to hide, did Farmer Brown's boy,
and it was just the kind of a morning when the trout should be hungry.
So he whistled as he tramped along, and his whistle was good to hear.

When he reached the first little pool he baited his hook very carefully
and then, taking the greatest care to keep out of sight of any trout
that might be in the little pool, he began to fish. Now Farmer Brown's
boy learned a long time ago that to be a successful fisherman one must
have a great deal of patience, so though he didn't get a bi