"Work at which you might kill yourself and
never get a fish. Did any one tell you there were trout in Sleepy Snake
Creek?"
"Uncle said I could try."
"Oh, you can," said Elnora. "You can try no end, but you'll never get
a trout. This is too far south and too warm for them. If you sit on the
bank and use worms you might catch some perch or catfish."
"But that isn't exercise."
"Well, if you only want exercise, go right on fishing. You will have a
creel full of invisible results every night."
"I object," said the man emphatically. He stopped work again and studied
Elnora. Even the watching mother could not blame him. In the shade of
the bridge Elnora's bright head and her lavender dress made a picture
worthy of much contemplation.
"I object!" repeated the man. "When I work I want to see results. I'd
rather exercise sawing wood, making one pile grow little and the other
big than to cast all day and catch nothing because there is not a fish
to take. Work for work's sake doesn't appeal to me."
He digged the groove around the cocoon with skilled hand. "Now there is
some fun in this!" he said. "It's going to be a fair job to cut it out,
but when it comes, it is not only beautiful, but worth a price; it will
help you on your way. I think I'll put up my rod and hunt moths. That
would be something like! Don't you want help?"
Elnora parried the question. "Have you ever hunted moths, Mr. Ammon?"
"Enough to know the ropes in taking them and to distinguish the
commonest ones.
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