"What dear times we used to have on the river!" said Dahlia to the
Philosopher, at a moment when nobody else happened to be speaking. She
accompanied this observation by a glance. It was Dahlia's glances which
gave life to her remarks.
"I haven't fished in that river for three summers," replied the
Philosopher, in his most unsentimental tone.
"You used to have better luck when you went alone," said Dahlia. "Do
you remember how we could never stop talking long enough to lure any
fish our way?"
"Nevertheless, there has been considerable fishing done on that river,
first and last," asserted the Skeptic, with a twinkle at the
Philosopher, who looked uncomfortable. The Professor's gentle gaze was
fixed upon each speaker in turn, and as he now waited upon the
Philosopher's reply I saw the latter person frown slightly.
"I never considered the fishing on that river very good," said he.
"Oh, it didn't need to be," cried Dahlia. "I can shut my eyes now and
see the water rippling in the moonlight! Can't you?" She appealed to
the Skeptic.
Pages:
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98