the lake. But I'll be all right in a moment.
There! now I'm more comfortable," he added, as Ned propped him up
against an old stump. "Is that the fish? Oh! Now I remember it all. He
is a whale; I told you so; and I got him too!"

The excitement of seeing the fish changed his thoughts from himself, and
the blood began to flow through his veins. The wind had died out, and
the sun was warm and cheering. The spirits of the boys rose, and they
began to forget a little of their narrow escape.

"Joe," said Ned, "is my hair gray? It ought to be; you scared me half to
death."

"I'm sorry, Ned," replied Joe, "but I didn't do it on purpose; but I'm
feeling rather queer. Let's get home."

They put on their clothes, wet as they were, and Joe staggered to the
boat and fell into the stern seat and lifted the bass into his lap,
where he could look at him and feel him.

As Ned, tired out and pale, took the oars and rowed slowly over the now
glassy water towards the bay, Joe listlessly took a small pair of scales
from his pocket and weighed the fish, and when he found that he weighed
over six pounds, just a little, he gave a long sigh.

"That's the biggest bass on record for this lake, don't you think so?"

Ned did not reply; he was too tired to even speak.

The other floats had been washed ashore or had disappeared somewhere;
the boys did not look for them, or even think of them.

Tot seemed to know that he was pulling two very tired boys, and went
along gently, and turned in of his own accord at the gate of the
Thompsons' place.

Joe tottered as he got out of the buckboard, and held the bass up by the
gills, to the astonishment of his father and mother, who were at the
door to meet them. They had seen the storm come up, and had anxiously
awaited the boys' return. As he stepped forward, the set line and block
fell on the steps.

The long story was being told in a slow and labored way by Joe after Ned
had gone, when it was interrupted by Mr. Thompson, who saw that his son
was growing pale and faint.

"That'll do for the present," he said. "Now come with me, old man," and
putting his arm around Joe's waist, he gently helped him into the house
and up to his own room, where he was undressed and carefully tucked into
bed.

"So you caught him on a set line, did you?" said Mr. Thompson, as he sat
by the bed-side, holding Joe's hand. "Now listen to a word of advice.
Don't ever use set lines again. Fish with your rod and reel if