Fishing for _her_! His mother understood. He wondered why he had ever
been fool enough to disobey her that Sunday. He could die for her
without a moment's hesitation.
It was glorious to have this marvellous day of spring all his own. The
birds were singing on every field and hedge. The trees flashed their
polished new leaves. The sweet languor of the South was in the air and
he drew it in with deep breaths that sent the joy of life tingling
through every vein.
Four joyous hours flew on tireless wings. He had caught five catfish and
a big eel--more than enough for a good meal for the whole family.
He held them up proudly. How his mother's eyes would sparkle! He could
see Sarah's admiring gaze and hear his father's good-natured approval.
He had just struck the path for home when the forlorn figure of a rough
bearded man came limping to meet him.
He stepped aside in the grass to let him pass. But the man stopped and
gazed at the fish.
"My, my, Sonny, but you've got a fine string there!" he exclaimed.
"Pretty good for one day," the Boy proudly answered.
"An' just ter think I ain't had nothin' ter eat in 'most two days."
"Don't you live nowhere?" the youngster asked in surprise.
"I used ter have a home afore the war, but my folks thought I wuz dead
an' moved away. I'm tryin' ter find 'em.
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