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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, October 16, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-10-16/ed-1/seq-18/

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By George Elmer Cobb
"S-sh!" warned mischievous Mary
Blinn in a mysterious whisper,
Nellie Dyson, at the oars, halted
the rowboat they were in. Alice Til
son, seated in the bow, craned her
graceful neck to look up shorewards.
A picture presented. A young man,
handsome, attired in a way that
showed easy circumstances, pose and
environment romantically inspiring,
sat propped against a tree ten feet
above the water, fishing.
His tackle was of the latest ap
proved and most expensive type. An
empty game bag lay at his side. The
pole hung limp, for he was asleep.
"He is one of th.e visitors down at
the hotel!" spoke Mary, her bright
eyes dancing with fun.
"Poor fellow!" added Nellie, "pick
ing out the very barest spot along the
river for a catch. I suppose he got
so tired waiting for a bite that he
just went to sleep out of sheer de
spair." "Oh, I have it!" fluttered Mary, in
a state of half-suppressed excite
ment. "Row a little nearer to the
shadows of the cliff, Nellie. That's it.
Nearer the line. Hold steady, now."
"Oh, let us row on! He may wake
up," suggested Alice, circumspect
and timid, and well knowing the mischief-loving
proclivities of her friend.
But Mary was bent on the execu
tion of a lively idea suggested to her
fertile mind. She and Nellie were ex
pert anglers. They knew all the fa
vorable fishing points along the
stream. For two hours they had been
casting their lines and in the bottom
of the boat lay a superb string of
There was one, an enormous pick
erel, which had been landed with as
much excitement among the delight
ed trio as though it had been a whale.
This, with hasty fingers, Mary pro
ceeded to detach from the string.
"Now, slowly, Nellie," she ordered,
and the latter, guesing what was up,
proceeded to get the boat directly in
touch with the line of the slumbering
fisherman. Mary lifted the hook and
attached their prize catch to it
"We'll trim it, too, so as to mystify
this Isaac Walton still further," bub
bled over Mary. "Just the thing!"
and she snatched out at Alice, tear
ing from its bowknot her hair ribbon,
He Landed It With Care
a pretty conceit in anemones and forget-me-nots.
"No, no!" demurred Alice; but her
willful friend had secured the bit of
silk and gracefully tied it around the
fish and gently lowered it, decorated
with the fantastic strip of ribbon.
"You don't exactly understand,"
smiled Mary, quizzically. "This young
man happens to be Nelson Warren.
He is worthy of encouraging as a
I possible acquisition to our neighbor-
rifeau. -

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