Chapter 2. Old Sam--Catching The Carp

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_ CHAPTER TWO. OLD SAM--CATCHING THE CARP

"Come, Fred, get up, it's such jolly weather. Make haste, and then we can go down the garden before breakfast," said Harry, the next morning.

"Aw-aw-yaw-aw-aw," said Fred, gaping dreadfully, and so sleepily that he forgot to place his hand before his mouth.

"Oh! come, I say, that won't do down in the country; here, it's seven o'clock, and we're going to have such a stinging hot day. Do get up and dress. There is Phil down the garden now."

"Ah-aw-aw--yes, I'll get up," said Fred, yawning again. "But what early folks you are; we don't get up so soon at home. What time do you have breakfast?"

"Eight o'clock, and Papa never waits for anybody; so make haste down, or we shan't have time to do anything before it's breakfast bell."

"I want some hot water," said Fred, grumpily.

"What for?" said Harry.

"Why, to wash in, of course," said Fred.

"Ho! ho! ho!" burst out Harry, laughing, "hot water to wash with in July! Why, we never use any all through the winter, when it's ever so cold, and the jugs get frozen over. You try cold water, it's ever so much better, and makes you have red cheeks like Phil's."

"Hi, hallo-o-o!" shouted somebody front out of doors.

"There's Phil," said Harry, going to the window and throwing it open, when in came gushing the sweet morning air, laden with the dew sweetness of a thousand flowers. The roses and jasmine nodded round the casement, and from almost every tree within reach of hearing, right down to the coppice, came ringing forth the merry morning songs of the birds.

"Oh!" said Fred, in a burst of admiration as he went to the window, half dressed; "oh! isn't it beautiful? I never thought the country half so pretty. I wish I had got up sooner."

"Do you?" said Harry. "Won't we have you up, then, to-morrow morning! But only look; Phil has found an old 'bottle washer.' Do make haste and come down, and we'll put him in the ferret's cage."

"Oh! do stop," said Fred, splashing his face about in the cold water, and hurrying to get finished; "do stop for me, there's a good fellow."

Five minutes after the three lads were together upon the lawn, rolling a prickly, spiky hedgehog over and over in the vain hope of getting him to open out and show his black, bright little eyes, and sharp piggy like snout; all which time old Sam was busy at work, making his keen bright scythe shave off the little yellow-eyed daisies that seemed sprinkled all over the green turf that was so soft and elastic to the feet.

"Chinkle chingle, chinkle chingle," rang out the scythe, as he held it over his shoulder, and sharpened it with his gritty rubber, and then again shave, shave, shave, over the velvet grass, till long rows of the little strands lay across the lawn.

A comical old fellow was Sam, and he used to say that no one loved the young masters so well as he did; but somehow or another Sam never used to see them out in the garden without finding something to grumble about. His complaints were generally without foundation; but Sam used to think he had cause to complain; and, being rather an old man, he used to consider he had a right so to do.

"Now then, Master Harry, you're at it again! What's the use of my trying to keep the garden nice if you will keep racing about over it like that? I wish you'd keep indoors, I do."

"We ain't going to, though, are we, Phil?" said Harry, laughing. "Old Sam would be sure to fetch us out again if we did; wouldn't you, Sam?"

Old Sam grinned, and shook his head, and just then eight o'clock struck by the village church, which was about a mile off, so Sam wiped his scythe, and, shouldering it, walked off to his breakfast, just as a cheery cry of--"Now, boys," came from out of the verandah, where Mr and Mrs Inglis were standing, watching the lads upon the lawn.

The pretty breakfast-room looked so bright and cheerful; there was such an odorous bunch of dew-wet roses in a vase; such sweet scents, too, came through the open window, and such country farm-house bounty spread upon the breakfast-table, that Fred told his cousins after the meal that he had never enjoyed anything before half so well in his life.

"Now, boys, what are you going to do to-day?" said Mr Inglis.

"Going fishing, Papa, in Trencher Pond," said Harry.

"Why, there's nothing there worth catching," said Mr Inglis.

"Oh _yes_, Papa!" said Phil. "It's full of sticklebacks, and such beauties! Some are all gold and green and scarlet; the most beautiful little creatures you ever saw, and it is so easy to catch them; and, besides, it is so pretty there now."

"Oh, very well!" said their father; "only I've got leave for you to fish in Lord Copsedale's lake next week."

"Hooray!" said Harry; "that's capital."

After breakfast Fred was all in a state of ferment to be off to Trencher Pond. All was new to him, for he did not even know what a stickleback might be, and he longed to see some of these gorgeous fellows that were all over "gold and green and scarlet." They were not long in getting equipped for their trip, for Harry soon produced three willow wands, some twine, worms, and a tin can to hold the spoil; and, thus provided, away they started, with the full understanding that their dinner would be ready at one o'clock precisely.

They had only about a mile to walk down a green lane, and then to turn off on the little common which contained the pond, but that mile took a long time to get over, there was so much to do, to see, and to listen to; there was the hole where the wasps had a nest to look at; there were the nimble squirrels to watch as they darted across the road, and, scampering up the trees, peeped down at the visitors to their domains. Ah, how Fred longed to have one of the little bushy-tailed fellows, as he watched their nimble tricks, scampering and leaping from bough to bough as easily and fearlessly as a cat would upon the ground. Then there were so many pretty wildflowers in the banks and hedge-rows; so many birds to learn the names of, for they were all strangers to Fred, who only knew sparrows--and they were different to the sparrows down here at Hollowdell--and canaries and parrots. There was a hedge-sparrow's nest, too, to peep at, with its tiny little blue eggs; but not to touch, for, though Fred wanted to take it, Harry and Phil said "No;" for Papa did not approve of the birds being disturbed. Then there was a beautifully-formed mossy little cup-shaped nest in the fork of a tree, just inside the coppice, smooth, round, and soft-edged, with the horsehair and wool lining all plaited together, and made as even as possible. It was so low down that, by bending the branch, the boys could look at it, which they did, while the poor chaffinches, in the horse-chestnut tree close by, cried "pink-pink-pink" in a state of the greatest alarm lest their work should be destroyed; and the pretty cock bird, with his crested head, pinky breast, and white-marked wings, burst out into a loud and joyous song, short but sweet, as the three young travellers journeyed on. And what a horse-chestnut tree that was all one mass of pinky white blossoms, the tree itself one mighty green pyramid of graceful leaves, and then, from top to bottom, hundreds and hundreds of the blossom-spikes standing like little floral trees themselves; while from every part of it came a continuous hum, as the bees and other insects rifled the honeyed treasures and bore them away.

"Oh!" at last burst out Fred, in perfect rapture; "oh! don't I wish Mamma and Papa were here! I never did know how beautiful the country was."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed his cousins, each holding one of his hands; "come along, that's nothing to what we are going to show you."

And away they raced through the gate, and across the little common to the pond in the corner, where the golden furze-bushes hung over the side.

Philip was right: it was a pretty pond. Such water--clear, bright, and deep, with all kinds of water-plants growing therein; golden lilies, silvery water buttercups, tall reeds, short thin rushes with their little cottony tufts, taller ones with brown tassels; and stout bulrushes, with their brown pokery seed-stems, growing tantalisingly out of reach. Such silvery bright smooth water, with bright blue beetles skimming about over the surface; and that skating spider that skims about over water with his long legs as easily as if it were ice, without giving a thought as to the possibility of sinking. Then down in the clear depths where Fred was peering, every now and then boatman beetles could be seen rowing about with their little pairs of oars, lying upon their backs to make boats of themselves--curious little fellows that by night come out of the water, and, opening a pair of cases, send out a bright and beautiful pair of wings, and fly about through the air till the morning.

"Oh! look at the little crocodiles!" cried Fred, to the intense delight of his cousins, as the showily-dressed newts went sailing easily through the clear water, with waving crests and lithe tails--such gay little fellows, with orange throats; while swimming about in chase of one another by myriads were the sticklebacks, of which the lads had come in quest.

Darting about over the pond were hundreds of dragon-flies, thin-bodied blue or green fellows, with bright transparent wings, that seemed invisible at times, so rapid was their vibration; while every now and then, rustling upon the wing as they dashed about in chase of one another, came the larger dragon-flies, to make brighter the scene.

And now began the fishing--fishing without hooks; for the voracious little sticklebacks seized the worm as soon as it was dropped into the pond, sometimes two together, one at each end, so that the tin can the boys had brought soon had several dozens of the fish inside. The first to draw out a painted "tiddler" was Fred, and a gorgeous little fellow it was, with a throat of the most brilliant scarlet, shaded off into orange; while gold and green of the most dazzling lustres shone in the sun.

"Mind his prickles!" cried Harry, by way of warning to Fred; but it was too late, for poor Fred's fingers were already bleeding from the effects of the spines with which the fish bristled.

Fred was in a high state of delight, and, novice though he was in fishing, he succeeded in pulling out nearly as many as his cousins. Both he and Philip fished by means of tying a piece of twine round the middle of a worm, and letting the ends dangle down; but Harry had brought a float and line, and secured his worm by hooking one end of it.

The sport grew fast and furious, and might have been continued for any length of time, but for a sudden alarm that was raised respecting worms, for Harry had just abstracted the last unfortunate wriggler from the tin box.

"Never mind," said Philip, "I'll soon find some more;" and he directly set to work, pulling up tufts of grass and kicking down pieces of the bank wherever it looked at all damp; but all in vain, not a worm could he find; and he was just about giving up his task in despair, when a shout from Harry took his attention.

"Here, come here!" said Harry, "I've got such a thumper."

Fred and Philip both ran up to him, and sure enough he seemed to have got hold of a "thumper," as he called it, for his line was running about backwards and forwards through the water, while the willow wand which served him for a rod was bent half double.

"Pull him to the side, and I'll get hold of the line," said Philip.

"But he won't come," said Harry, trying to play his fish to the bank, but without success, for just then it made a dart right out towards the middle of the pond. Harry's wand bent more and more, and, just as the greatest strain occurred, the line divided about two feet above the float, the wand gave a smart rebound, and poor Harry, the picture of disappointment, stood with a short piece of line waving about at the end of his stick, gazing woefully after his lost fish.

"Oh--oh--oh--h--h!" groaned Philip and Fred together, "what a pity!"

Harry continued to look most rueful, but said nothing.

"It must have been a jack," said Philip. "What a big one! Why didn't you pull it out when I told you?"

"How could I," said Harry, "when it was dragging so?"

"I _am_ sorry," said Fred; "it _must_ have been a great stickleback to pull the line in half."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the cousins, "it wasn't a stickler. They never grow any bigger than these."

"Look! look!" said Fred, pointing to something that was bobbing up and down in the pond, "there's Harry's floater."

"So there is," said Harry; "perhaps it will come in close enough to get hold of."

But, instead of coming in any closer, the little coloured cork kept working away towards a deep, dark-looking part, right under a large beech-tree, whose arms hung over that portion of the pond.

"Get up the tree, Hal," said Philip, "and creep along that bough. You'll get it then."

"No, don't," said Fred, "you'll fall in; I'm sure you will. Don't, pray don't," he continued, as Harry ran towards the tree.

"I shan't fall," said Harry; "don't you be a goose. I've climbed harder trees than that, haven't I, Phil?"

"I should think so," said Philip; "but don't go too far, Hal, so as to get in, for it's ever so deep there!"

"All right," said Harry; "give me a bump up."

Philip laid hold of his brother's leg, and gave him a lift just as he grasped the tree with both arms, and then, taking advantage of the inequalities of the bark with his boots, Harry managed to climb slowly and laboriously to where the tree forked, and the branch reached forth from the parent stem over the deep pool, while Fred stood half aghast at what seemed to him the most daring act he ever beheld.

"Oh! take care," he exclaimed, looking quite pale, while the palms of his hands grew moist and hot with excitement.

"I'm all right," said Harry, creeping slowly out upon the branch; and then, seating himself astride, he began to work himself out over the water, while the bough quivered and bent at every movement. "Can you see it, Phil?" said the adventurer. "Just under the bough, now, and coming nearer. It's gone!" he exclaimed, in dismay, as the float sank down out of sight. "But keep on, Harry; perhaps it will come up again."

Harry kept on till he was about twenty feet away from the trunk of the tree, and about three feet from the surface of the water, and then sat watching where Philip threw a stone at the place where the float disappeared. He could see some distance down into the black-looking water, which report said was here ten feet deep; there were weeds and dead branches sticking up here and there, but no float, and no fish.

"It's of no use; do come back," said Fred, "or I know you will fall."

"Whoof!" said Harry, giving himself a kind of jump, so that the bough swung up and down, and his feet dipped the water, while his head nearly rose to the branch above him. "Here's such a jolly ride; come and have a turn, boys."

"Pray don't," said Fred, "I know you'll fall." And then--but not in obedience to Fred's request--Harry became motionless; for just beneath his feet he saw, rising from the depth of the pond, the white top of his float. Fred gave a half shriek at what he saw, for to him it seemed a feat of unsurpassed daring, as Harry clasped the bough with his legs, and swinging himself head downwards, he plunged his hands into the water and grasped his truant line.

There was a moment's struggle, for the fish was still at the end, but it was beaten: and the effort of keeping the cork-float down so long, and its previous struggles, made it an easy prey. Tightly twisting the line round his finger, Harry swung himself up again, and began carefully to make the retrograde journey after the manner of a sloth, with his back downwards, and arms and legs clasping the bough. The small twigs and branches made this no easy task, but, to the great delight and admiration of Fred, he soon reached the tree, where he passed the line to Philip, who was elevated in his turn by Fred, till he could reach Harry's extended hand.

"Now you won't pull him out till I come down," said Harry.

"Oh, no," said Philip.

"Honour bright," said Harry.

"Honour bright," said Philip.

Then, and only then, did the climber loose his hold of the line and proceed to make his descent. He contrived to get into the fork of the tree, and then let himself down until he hung by his hands, and tried to clasp the trunk with his legs, but somehow or other the tree seemed to keep gliding away from him, and the more he tried the more tired he grew, till at last his hands slipped, and down he came upon the ground in a sitting position.

Happily, the distance was only small, and there was too much excitement awaiting him for Harry to spare time for anything more than a terrible grimace.

"Now, then," he said, taking hold of the line and drawing it gently, "look out, boys," and then, with his beautiful golden scales glittering in the sun, and his strength completely gone, a carp of about a pound and a half weight rose to the surface, and, turning on his side, was drawn inshore.

"Now hold the line, and I'll land him," said Harry to his brother, who took his post while the speaker went down upon his knees to grasp the fish.

"Flip, flap, plish, plash," went the carp, when Harry's hand came in contact with its shiny sides.

"Oh!" groaned all the boys, "he's gone;" for the fish was free from the line, the hook having, broken out of his mouth.

But he was not quite gone, for he lay in a shallow on some weeds, feebly opening and shutting his gills. The next flap of his tail, however, would have taken him into deep water, but in went Harry into the mud up to his knees, and with one scoop of his hand sent the golden treasure flying out on to the grass, yards away from the pond edge.

Didn't they cheer, and didn't Harry dance about, on the grass with his black muddy legs dripping about, and the water going "suck, suck," in his boots, and squeezing out at every step. How they gloated over the poor panting prize; so much, that it was ever so long before they could stop to rub Harry's legs down with bunches of grass; and it was no easy matter for Fred and Philip to do, for the wet boy kept dancing, and cheering, and skipping about like a mad thing, slapping his brother's back; and at last, when they were half finished--

"Bring the tiddlers along, and let's keep carpy alive," he shouted; and running to the edge of the pond, soaked his handkerchief therein, wrapped up the carp, and away they all ran homewards, to put the fish in their little pond. Philip, who was carrying the can of little fish-- which had now become almost insignificant in the eyes of their captors-- kept splashing his legs at every step, till they were nearly as wet as his brother's; while Fred, who bore the rods, had to stop more than once to disentangle the lines from the overhanging branches as they went down the lane.

At last they reached home, to find Mary carrying in the dinner, after Mr Inglis had been waiting about an hour for the truants, and at last, exhausted in patience, had ordered it in.

"Look! look! Papa, Mamma," shouted Harry, rushing in through the French window; "look, here's a fish!"

"Soak, soak," went his boots as he went in.

"Take him outside," said his father to the two other boys, who were just coming breathlessly in, only Fred was entangled by the rods crossing the window. "Take him outside, the young rascal is spoiling the carpet with his wet boots."

It was no use to think of dinner then, so Papa and Mamma both had to come outside the window to see and admire the carp, and hear how it was captured, before the mid-day meal could be gone on with.

"Ah!" said the Squire at last, "there used to be plenty of fine carp in Trencher Pond down the deep hole under the tree, but I did not know there were any left, for the dry summers killed them when the railway cutting was made and took off so much water. But come, boys, dinner."

And then he drove them off, and made them enter the hall-door so as to make themselves fit for the repast that awaited them. But he was not quite successful, for Harry made a double, and ran off to pop his carp in the pond, but was back directly, and shortly after in the dining-room, feasting away with a country boy's appetite--an appetite, too, that Fred already began to show symptoms of possessing, as the fruit of his visit to Hollowdell. _

Read next: Chapter 3. Indoor Amusements

Read previous: Chapter 1. A Fish Out Of Water

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