etimes and try to fish. You see,
as he says, if everyone were allowed to take fish, there would soon be
none left, and people would begin to do it for the sake of selling them,
and not for the sport. He allowed Mr. Cross's nephews to fish last
summer when they were staying at the Rectory, and he said I might too,
if I ever felt inclined."

"I've never seen trout tickled," said Lindsay.

"It will be a case of 'First catch your fish, then cook it'," laughed
Rhoda. "It isn't at all easy to whisk them out--they're the most
slippery things you can imagine. I'm glad we don't have to depend on
Ralph's skill for our dinner. I was hoping we might find some mushrooms,
and stew them in part of the milk we've brought. We could put the can
down among the ashes of the fire, and they'd be cooking while we ate the
first course."

"Well, it is certainly a case of 'First pick your mushrooms', for you
don't even know whether there'll be any," retorted Ralph. "The trout are
always there, at any rate."

It was a long walk to Pendle Tor, and appetites, sharpened by the fresh
air of the hills, began to grow rather keen; but as they had all
resolved not to have their picnic before they had reached the summit,
they staved off the edge of their hunger with a few biscuits, and,
trudging on, covered the last mile in such quick time that Leonard
declared it reminded him of a paper-chase. It was rather a steep pull to
gain the highest point, yet they were well rewarded when they reached it
by the bird's-eye view of the landscape around them, farms, churches,
and distant village looking like so many toys, and the fields like the
divisions in a map.

"I hope it doesn't mean to rain," said Monica, pointing to some rather
threatening clouds that were rolling up from the west.

"We shall get a nice wetting if it does, for we haven't an umbrella
amongst us!" returned Irene.

"Rain? Not it! Don't distress yourself; the glass was up to 'Fair' this
morning. It's only a little scrap of mist blowing over. I don't mind
giving you a butter-scotch in exchange for every drop of rain you get on
your hat to-day," declared Ralph, whose prophecies were generally in
exact accordance with his hopes, and who was apt to shut his eyes to
unwelcome truths.

"Better not promise too much, old chap, or you may have to pay up," said
Leonard. "I don't like the look of the sky myself. But what's the odds?
It won't be the first time we've been wet through, by a long way,