Page 94 - A Little Bush Maid

"Oh, isn’t he a splendid fellow!" Norah cried, surveying the prey with
dancing eyes. "T’ll have him for Dad, anyhow, even if T don’t catch another."

"Yes, Dad’s breakfast’s all right," laughed the Hermit. "But don’t worry,

you’ll catch more yet. See, there goes Harry."

There was a shout as Harry, with a scientific flourish of his rod, hauled a

small blackfish from its watery bed.

"Not bad for a beginning!" he said, grinning. "But not a patch on yours,
Norah!"

"Oh, T had luck," Norah said. "He really is a beauty, isn’t he? T think he
must be the grandfather of all the perches."

"Tf that’s so," said Jim, beginning to pull in, with an expression of "do or
die" earnestness, "T reckon T’ve got the grandmother on now!"

A storm of advice hurtled about Jim as he tugged at his line.

"Hurry up, Jim!"

"Go slow!"

"There--he’s getting off again!"

"So are you!" said the ungrateful recipient of the counsel, puffing hard.

"Only a boot, Jim--don’t worry!"

"Gammon!--it’s a shark!--look at his worried expression!"

"T’ll ’shark’ you, young Harry!" grunted Jim. "Mind your eye--there he
comes!" And expressions of admiration broke from the scoffers as a second

splendid perch dangled in the air and was landed high and dry--or
comparatively so--in the branches of the wattle tree.