“Oh! nothing. I've just come to see how you were getting along. Haven't you been gone an awfully long time? And are those all the fish you've caught? What little bits of things they are! I thought people who camped out caught big fish and lots of them?” “That depends a good deal upon where they go,” said I. “Yes, I suppose so,” replied Euphemia; “but I should think a stream as big as this would have plenty of fish in it. However, if you can't catch any, you might go up to the road and watch for Mr. Mulligan. He sometimes comes along on Mondays.” “I'm not going to the road to watch for any fish-man,” I replied, a little more testily than I should have spoken. “What sort of a camping out would that be? But we must not be talking here or I shall never get a bite. Those fish are a little soiled from jumping about in the dust. You might wash them off at that shallow place, while I go a little further on and try my luck.” I went a short distance up the creek, and threw my line into a dark, shadowy pool, under some alders, where there certainly should be fish. And, sure enough, in less than a minute I got a splendid bite,--not only a bite, but a pull. I knew that I had certainly hooked a big fish! The thing actually tugged at my line so that I was afraid the pole would break. I did not fear for the line, for that, I knew, was strong. I would have played the fish until he was tired, and I could pull him out without risk to the pole, but I did not know exactly how the process of “playing” was conducted. I was very much excited. Sometimes I gave a jerk and a pull, and then the fish would give a jerk and a pull. Directly I heard some one running toward me, and then I heard Euphemia cry out: “Give him the butt! Give him the butt!” “Give him what?” I exclaimed, without having time even to look up at her. “The butt! the butt!” she cried, almost breathlessly. “I know that's right! I read how Edward Everett Hale did it in the Adirondacks.” “No, it wasn't Hale at all,” said I, as I jumped about the bank; “it was Mr. Murray.” “Well, it was one of those fishing ministers, and I know that it caught the fish.” “I know, I know. I read it, but I don't know how to do it.” “Perhaps you ought to punch him with it,” said she. “No! no!” I hurriedly replied, “I can't do anything like that. I'm going to try to just pull him out lengthwise. You take hold of the pole and go in shore as far as you can and I'll try and get hold of the line.” Euphemia did as I bade her, and drew the line in so that I could reach it. As soon as I had a firm hold of it, I pulled in, regardless of consequences, and hauled ashore an enormous cat-fish. “Hurrah!” I shouted, “here is a prize.” Euphemia dropped the pole, and ran to me. “What a horrid beast!” she exclaimed. “Throw it in again.” “Not at all!” said I. “This is a splendid fish, if I can ever get him off the hook. Don't come near him! If he sticks that back-fin into you, it will poison you.”