File:St. Nicholas (serial) (1873) (14597341629).jpg

Identifier: stnicholasserial31dodg (find matches)
Title: St. Nicholas (serial)
Year: 1873 (1870s)
Authors: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Subjects: Children's literature
Publisher: (New York : Scribner & Co.)
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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ish there forhours without any result. He had the truespirit of Izaak Walton in him, I think, andwhen he was fishing was the only time in hislife that he remained still and kept quiet, so Iencouraged the pastime. The boat driftedslowly along, the absorbed angler watching his 152 THE BABYS ADVENTUROUS DAY AND MINE! (Dec. hook. Suddenly I heard an excited screamfrom the stern-sheets. The small boy hadrisen and was dancing frantically up and downon the seat, holding his fishing-pole with bothhands, yelling, I dot a fis! I dot a fis! It was somewhat of a problem whether he had dot a fis or the fis had dot him ; butbefore I could take in the fact that the line was boat, tossed him upon the bottom of it, andthen started to push the boat to the shore. Thebaby never let go of his prize, but kept on ex-claiming : I dot a fis! Meanwhile some one from the shore rowedout and towed us in. We furnished a deal ofamusement for the hotel that day. People ap-parently expected something to happen to us;
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THE BABY NEVER LET GO OF HIS PRIZE, BUT KEPT ON EXCLAIMING! I DOT A FIS taut as a wire and the young angler was holdingon desperately, he pitched wildly overboard. Imade a hasty move to save him, and, by ill luck,overturned the cranky boat. I caught him bythe leg just as he went down again, fearing lestthe fish, which seemed as strong as a whale,might tow him across the lake. As I said before, I was a good swimmer, evenwith my clothes on. This was the second timethat day I had a chance to display my prowessin the water. The baby did nt cry this time.The true spirit of the sportsman was in him.He just shut his little teeth and hung on to thatrod with two chubby little fists. I swam to the for a larger crowd than before was at the boat-house as we landed. My thoughts were too deepfor utterance, and all the baby did was to holdup his pole proudly and draw attention to thefish dangling from the end of it. That fish wasabout three inches long. I taught him; I taught dat fis! he said tothe

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