out was soon caught, and a third, and a fourth.
"I should like to fish too," exclaimed Norman. "Won't you let me have
your long stick and string, Mr Maclean? It seems very easy, and I am
sure I should soon catch some."
The laird laughed heartily.
"You are more likely to tumble into the water, and then we should have
to catch you, young gentleman," he answered. "It will take a good many
years before you can throw a fly, let me tell you."
Norman was not convinced.
"I'll get Sandy to row me out some day."
"He is welcome to do that; but remember, you must not be tumbling
overboard."
"I can take very good care of myself," answered Norman, folding his
arms, and trying to look very grand.
A broad grin came over the countenance of Sandy, who knew enough of
English to understand him. He nodded to his master.
"If he comes with me I will take gude care of the child, and maybe he
will catch a big trout some day; and you will come, young lady, and I
will teach you to catch fish too," he said, turning to Fanny.
"Oh, I am sure I should not like to ran a hook into their mouths, it
must hurt them so dreadfully," answered Fanny.
"They are given to us for food, my little girl," observed Mr Maclean,
"and most conscientiously I believe they suffer no real pain, and
although the instinct of self-preservation makes them wish to escape, I
doubt even whether they are frightened when they feel the hook in their
mouths."
Still Fanny was incredulous, and thought she should never agree with the
laird on that point.
"I do not care whether the fish are hurt or not if I want to catch
them," observed Norman, showing his usual indifference to the feelings
of others, whether human beings or animals.
Fanny enjoyed the row very much, and thanked Sandy for offering to take
her and Norman out.
They reached home in time to have the trout dressed for dinner, and the
laird insisted that the children should come down, and partake of some
of the fish which they, as he said, had assisted to catch.
The laird was fond of the study of natural history, and narrated a
number of anecdotes especially of the sagacity of animals.
"Fanny and I have a difference of opinion as to whether fish when caught
do or do not feel pain," he observed. "I remember reading an anecdote
which, if true, supports what she thinks. A surgeon was one day walking
by the side of a pond in a gentleman's grounds in England, when he saw a
large pike, whic
|