g on his way upstream. And as the boy drew from his
dingy blouse a scrap of brown paper, enclosing a bit of bread and
cheese, and laid it down beside him, the stream seemed to be dancing
just before him at the tune he whistled; a swinging, whirling dance from
shore to shore; a butterfly dance, through a setting of buttercups and
daisies; with here and there a shaft of sunlight thrown upon it, where
the thin clouds parted.

Afternoon came, and the shadows of the low hills were thrown far across
the stream. Here and there a splash denoted that the fish were waking
from their midday torpor and were ready for prey. Little Tim resumed his
rod, and slowly retraced his steps along the shore in the direction of
Ellison dam and Benton.

It was about four o'clock as he neared a point in the stream a half-mile
above the dam, where the water flowed very quietly past the edge of some
thick alders. There were pickerel in that water. Tim knew the place of
old; and he drew near softly, to make a cast. The bright troll fell with
a tinkle on the still surface, and he drew it temptingly past the
thicket.

A quick whirl--and how the line did tauten and the rod bend! The whole
tip of it went under water. He had struck a big fish. He brought him to
the surface with some effort; but the fish was not to be easily subdued.
A sudden dart and he was away again, diving deep and straining the rod
to its utmost.

Seeing he had a fish of unusual size, the boy played him carefully; let
him have the line and tire himself for a moment, then reeled in as the
line slackened.

"He's a four pounder; giminy, how he fights!" exclaimed Little Tim. And
he gave a sudden yell of triumph as he saw that the fish was firmly
hooked, with the troll far down its distended jaws.

Then his impatience got the better of him, and he gave a great lift on
the rod, with the line reeled up short. Just at that moment too, it
seemed the fish had tired; for, as Tim strained, the big pickerel came
out of water as with a leap. The stout rod straightened with a jerk that
yanked the fish out, sent it flying through the air and lodged it away
up in the top of some thick alders that bordered the shore. There, the
line tangling, it hung suspended, twisting and doubling in vain effort
to free itself.

Little Tim laughed joyfully.

"Got to shin for that fellow," he said, stepping ashore and eying the
prize that dangled above his head.

But, as he stooped to lay down his pole, t