as those for whom it was meant, and with a multitude of
interests at work in her mind and heart of which they had never
dreamed. And now her eye was bent on the net; but her thoughts were on
that other kind of fishing of which she had just seen an example--the
first she had ever seen of Mr. Linden's!--and her full heart was
longingly thinking, among other thoughts, of the few there were to draw
those nets, and the multitude to be drawn! What Faith saw in the meshes
the man's hands were slowly pulling up!--

But the fisherman only saw--what pleased him greatly, some very fine
fish; shad they were for the greater part; from which he selected a
noble specimen and cast it over into Mr. Linden's boat. Then standing
up in his own he wiped his hands on the sleeves of his coat.

"Hope you'll come along again some day," said he. "And" (waggishly)
"don't come without the lady!"--

The rope was drawn in and the little skiff shot ahead smoothly and
silently from the great brown fishing boat and her equally brown
owners. Gliding on--watched for a little by the fishers, then their
attention was claimed by the flapping shad in the net, and the sail
boat set her canvas towards Kildeer river. Mr. Linden went forward and
bestowed his prisoner a little more out of sight and sound in some
place of safety, and then sitting down in the prow dipped his hands in
the blue water and took a survey of Faith, as she sat in the stern--the
tiller in her hand, the shadow of the sail falling partly across; the
spring zephyrs playing all about her.

"Little bird," he said, "why don't you sing?"

A smile of much and deep meaning went back from the stern to the prow;
but she presently made the somewhat obvious remark that "birds do not
always sing."

"A melancholy fact in natural history! the truth of which I am just now
experiencing. What shall be done with them at these times--are they to
be coaxed--or chidden or fed with sponge cake? Have you got any in your
basket?"

"Are you hungry?" said Faith.

"Only for words--or songs--or some other commodity of like origin," Mr.
Linden said, coming back to his old place. "What shall I have?--if I
cannot get the two first?"

"You might have a little patience?--"

"'Patience', my dear, 'is a good root'--but nothing akin to sugar
canes."

"There's no need of it, either," said Faith laughing,--"for _you_ can
sing if I can't."

"No, there is no need of it, and therefore--Now, little bird, will you
p