without making a noise.  A puff of wind comes and ruffles the surface, so that he cannot see the fish.  It is calm again, and there he still is, moving his fins in peaceful security.  The boy lowers his snare behind the fish and slips it along.  He intends to get it around him just back of the gills and then elevate him with a sudden jerk.  It is a delicate operation, for the snare will turn a little, and if it hits the fish, he is off.  However, it goes well; the wire is almost in place, when suddenly the fish, as if he had a warning in a dream, for he appears to see nothing, moves his tail just a little, glides out of the loop, and with no seeming appearance of frustrating any one’s plans, lounges over to the other side of the pool; and there he reposes just as if he was not spoiling the boy’s holiday.  This slight change of base on the part of the fish requires the boy to reorganize his whole campaign, get a new position on the bank, a new line of approach, and patiently wait for the wind and sun before he can lower his line.  This time, cunning and patience are rewarded.  The hoop encircles the unsuspecting fish.  The boy’s eyes almost start from his head as he gives a tremendous jerk, and feels by the dead-weight that he has got him fast.  Out he comes, up he goes in the air, and the boy runs to look at him.  In this transaction, however, no one can be more surprised than the sucker.

VII

FICTION AND SENTIMENT

The boy farmer does not appreciate school vacations as highly as his city cousin.  When school keeps, he has only to “do chores and go to school,” but between terms there are a thousand things on the farm that have been left for the boy to do.  Picking up stones in the pastures and piling them in heaps used to be one of them.  Some lots appeared to grow stones, or else the sun every year drew them to the surface, as it coaxes the round cantelopes out of the soft garden soil; it is certain that there were fields that always gave the boys this sort of fall work.  And very lively work it was on frosty mornings for the barefooted boys, who were continually turning up the larger stones in order to stand for a moment in the warm place that had been covered from the frost.  A boy can stand on one leg as well as a Holland stork; and the boy who found a warm spot for the sole of his foot was likely to stand in it until the words, “Come, stir your stumps,” broke in discordantly upon his meditations.  For the boy is very much given to meditations.  If he had his way, he would do nothing in a hurry; he likes to stop and think about things, and enjoy his work as he goes along.  He picks up potatoes as if each one were a lump of gold just turned out of the dirt, and requiring careful examination.