"
"Yes, I did," interposed Tommy. "He caught 'em on a hook; so of
course he hooked em. I hooked mine too."
"Is that what you meant?" asked Johnny, a broad grin
overspreading his dirty face, and his fists suddenly expanding
into dirty paws again.
"That's just what I meant; and your skull is as thick as a
two-inch plank, or you would have seen what I meant."
"I see now."
Johnny was not disposed to resent this last insinuation about the
solidity of his cranium. He was evidently too glad to get out of
the scrape without a broken head or a bloody nose. Johnny was a
bully, and he had a bully's reputation to maintain; but he never
fought when the odds were against him; and he had a congressman's
skill in backing out before the water got too hot. On the whole,
he rather enjoyed the pun; and he had the condescension to laugh
heartily, though somewhat unnaturally, at the jest.
"Will you give me a flounder, Tommy?" said the little ragged
girl, as she glanced into his well-filled basket.
"What do you want of him, Katy?" asked Tommy turning round and
gazing up into her sad, pale face.
Katy hesitated; her bosom heaved, and her lips compressed, as
though she feared to answer the question.
"To eat," she replied, at last, in a husky tone.
"What's the matter, Katy?"
The face of the child seemed to wear a load of care and anxiety,
and as the young fisherman gazed a tear started from her eye, and
slid down her cheek.
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