“Know how to box, do they?  I thought I saw something like it.  They’re a fine lot of young fellows.  I must keep my eye on them.  They’ll be men one of these days!”

They were only boys yet, however; and they were hardly arrived in front of the kitchen-door before they began to make the proposed division of the fish.

Mrs. Myers came to meet Dick, and receive an account of his errand.

“You’ve been gone twice as long—­I declare, Almira, come here and see these fish.  You have had wonderful luck, I must say.  More’n we’ll know what to do with.”

“I will attend to the cleaning of them,” began Dabney; but Dick interrupted him with,—­

“Guess not, Cap’n Dab.  I’s cleaned loads ob fish.  Won’t be no time at all puttin’ t’rough jes’ a string or two.”

“Dick will clean them,” said Mrs. Myers; “but it’s too late to cook any for supper.”

She turned away into the house as she spoke, and took Almira with her.

“Now, boys,” said Dabney, “we’ve just time, before supper, to go with these other strings, and get back.”

They would have been late indeed, if they had stopped to talk with every one who wanted to admire Dab’s big pickerel and Ford’s remarkable bass; but a little good management brought them to Dr. Brandegee’s in not much more than five times the number of minutes needed to walk the distance.  The fish were handed to the door-opener with,—­

“The compliments of Mr. Harley, Mr. Kinzer, and Mr. Foster,” and a great flourish of a bow from the latter, which could hardly be made to keep that string company till the doctor should see it.

“Now for the minister’s.”

The good man himself replied to the ring at his door-bell; but Dabney was half sorry he had consented to be spokesman this time.

“My young friends?” said Mr. Fallow inquiringly.

“Fish, sir,” said Dab.  “Some we caught to-day over in Green Pond.  We thought we’d bring you a mess of ’em.”

He thought, too, without saying it,—­

“Now I’ve made a mess of it.  Why didn’t I let Ford do it?”

“Thank you.  Thank you, my young friends.  Very kind and thoughtful.  Won’t you walk in?”

“No, sir, thank you.  It’s most supper-time.  We must hurry back.”

“Mary!  Come and see these fish.  Some very fine ones.  Going?  Indeed?  Saw you in church last Sunday.  Hope I’ll see you there again to morrow.  Good-afternoon, my dear young friends.”

“Good-afternoon, sir.”

They walked away a little rapidly, but with a vivid and decidedly pleasant impression that they had given the pale-faced, earnest-eyed minister an extraordinary amount of comfort.

“The fish ain’t worth much,” said Ford.  “It couldn’t have been just them!”

No, indeed, it was not, and they failed to make it out to their satisfaction; but it might have helped them if they had seen him hand the fish to “Mary,” and say,—­