fish's head to a pulp, and I carried my capture
home and proudly strutted in at the kitchen door.

"Look, Granma, at what a big fish I've caught."

"Oh, Millie, he's really got one," and Granma straightened up from the
wash-tub. Millie came out snickering scornfully.

"My Gawd, Ma, can't you see it's been dead a week?"

"You're a liar, it ain't!" I cried. And I began to sob because Aunt
Millie was trying to push me back into ignominy as I stood at the very
threshold of glory.

"Honest-to-God, it's--fresh--Granma!" I gulped, "didn't I just kill it
with the pitchfork?" Then I stopped crying, absorbed entirely in the
fine story I was inventing of the big fish's capture and death. I stood
aside, so to speak, amazed at myself, and proud, as my tongue ran on as
if of its own will.

Even Aunt Millie was charmed.

* * * * *

But she soon came out from under the spell with, "Ma, Johnnie means well
enough, but surely you ain't going to feed that fish to the boarders?"

"Yes, I am. I believe in the little fellow."

"All right, Ma ... but I won't eat a mouthful of it, and you'd better
drop a note right away for Uncle Beck to drive in, so's he'll be here on
time for the cases of poison that are sure to develop."

* * * * *

Cleaned and baked, the fish looked good, dripping with sauce and basted
to an appetizing brown.

As I drew my chair up to the table and a smoking portion was heaped on
my plate, Aunt Millie watched me with bright, malicious eyes.

"Granma, I want another cup o' coffee," I delayed.

But the big, fine, grey-haired mill boss, our star boarder, who liked me
because I always listened to his stories--he sailed into his helping
nose-first. That gave me courage and I ate, too ... and we all ate.

"Say, but this fish is good! Where did it come from?"

"The kid here caught it."

"Never tasted better in my life."

None of us were ever any the worse for our rotten fish. And I was
vindicated, believed in, even by Aunt Millie.

* * * * *

Summer vacation again, after a winter and spring's weary grind in
school.

Aunt Rachel wrote to Granma that they would be glad to have me come over
to Halton for a visit.

Granma let me, after I had pleaded for a long while,--but it was with
great reluctance, warning me of Phoebe.

* * * * *

Aunt Rachel, Uncle Joshua, Cousin Phoebe and co