blue or green fellows, with bright transparent wings, that seemed
invisible at times, so rapid was their vibration; while every now and
then, rustling upon the wing as they dashed about in chase of one
another, came the larger dragon-flies, to make brighter the scene.

And now began the fishing--fishing without hooks; for the voracious
little sticklebacks seized the worm as soon as it was dropped into the
pond, sometimes two together, one at each end, so that the tin can the
boys had brought soon had several dozens of the fish inside. The first
to draw out a painted "tiddler" was Fred, and a gorgeous little fellow
it was, with a throat of the most brilliant scarlet, shaded off into
orange; while gold and green of the most dazzling lustres shone in the
sun.

"Mind his prickles!" cried Harry, by way of warning to Fred; but it was
too late, for poor Fred's fingers were already bleeding from the effects
of the spines with which the fish bristled.

Fred was in a high state of delight, and, novice though he was in
fishing, he succeeded in pulling out nearly as many as his cousins.
Both he and Philip fished by means of tying a piece of twine round the
middle of a worm, and letting the ends dangle down; but Harry had
brought a float and line, and secured his worm by hooking one end of it.

The sport grew fast and furious, and might have been continued for any
length of time, but for a sudden alarm that was raised respecting worms,
for Harry had just abstracted the last unfortunate wriggler from the tin
box.

"Never mind," said Philip, "I'll soon find some more;" and he directly
set to work, pulling up tufts of grass and kicking down pieces of the
bank wherever it looked at all damp; but all in vain, not a worm could
he find; and he was just about giving up his task in despair, when a
shout from Harry took his attention.

"Here, come here!" said Harry, "I've got such a thumper."

Fred and Philip both ran up to him, and sure enough he seemed to have
got hold of a "thumper," as he called it, for his line was running about
backwards and forwards through the water, while the willow wand which
served him for a rod was bent half double.

"Pull him to the side, and I'll get hold of the line," said Philip.

"But he won't come," said Harry, trying to play his fish to the bank,
but without success, for just then it made a dart right out towards the
middle of the pond. Harry's wand bent more and more, and, just as the
greates