Merton and Junior, being more experienced anglers, went ashore to make some casts on the ripples and rapids of the stream above, and secured several fine “winfish.”  The rest of us were content to take it easy in the shade and hook an occasional cat and sun fish.  At last the younger children wanted variety, so I permitted them to land on the wooded bank, kindle a little fire, and roast some clams that we had bought at the boat-house.  The smoke and the tempting odors lured Merton and Junior, who soon proved that boys’ appetites can always be depended upon.

Time passed rapidly, and I at last noticed that the tide had fallen to such a degree as to fill me with alarm.

“Come, youngsters,” I cried, “we must go back at once, or we shall have to stay here till almost night.”

They scrambled on board, and we started down-stream, but soon came to shallow water, as was proved by the swift current and the ripples.  A moment later we were hard aground.  In vain we pushed with the oars; the boat would not budge.  Then Junior sat down and coolly began to take off shoes and stockings.  In a flash Merton followed his example.  There was no help for it, and we had no time to lose.  Over they splashed, lightening the boat, and taking the “painter,” or tie-rope, at the bow, they pulled manfully.  Slowly at first, but with increasing progress, the keel grated over the stones, and at last we were again afloat.  A round of applause greeted the boys as they sprung back into the boat, and away we went, cautiously avoiding shoals and sand-bars, until we reached Plum Point, where we expected to spend the remainder of the day.  Here, for a time, we had excellent sport, and pulled up sunfish and white perch of a very fair size.  Bobsey caught so large a specimen of the former variety that he had provided himself with a supper equal even to his capacity.

The day ended in unalloyed pleasure, and never had the old farm-house looked so like home as when it greeted us again in the evening glow of the late spring sun.  Merton and Junior divided the finny spoils to their satisfaction, while Winnie and I visited the chicken-coops and found that there had been no mishaps during our absence.  I told my boy that I would milk the cow while he cleaned the fish for supper, and when at last we sat down we formed a tired, hilarious, and hungry group.  Surely, if fish were created to be eaten, our enjoyment of their browned sweetness must have rounded out their existence completely.

“O papa!” exclaimed Merton, at the breakfast table, on Monday morning; “we haven’t planted any musk and water melons!”

“That is true,” I replied.  “I find that I overlooked melons in making out my list of seeds.  Indeed, I passed them over, I imagine, as a luxury that we could dispense with the first year.”

“I’ll take care of ’em if you will only let us have some,” persisted the boy; and the other children joined in his request.