Jules. "You'd drive them out of the country with your roughness, and we might all whistle for our fortunes."
Selma laughed and said no more about it.
Every day after that, Jules looked for the dwarf-man, but he did not see him again. Selma looked for him, too, for her curiosity had been much excited; but as she was not allowed to go to the woods in the winter, of course she never saw him.
But, at last, summer came; and, one day, as she was walking by a little stream which ran through the woods, whom should she see, sitting on the bank, but the dwarf-man! She knew him in an instant, from Jules' descriptions. He was busily engaged in fishing, but he did not fish like any one else in the world. He had a short pole, which was floating in the water, and in his hand he held a string which was fastened to one end of the pole.
When Selma saw what the old fellow was doing, she burst out laughing. She knew this was not very polite, but she could not help it.
"What's the matter?" said he, turning quickly toward her.
"I'm sorry I laughed at you, sir," said Selma, "but that's no way to fish."
"Much you know about it," said the dwarf. "This is only way to fish. You let your pole float, with a piece of bait on a hook fastened to the big end of the pole. Then you fasten a line to the little end. When a fish bites, you haul in the pole by means of the string."
"Have you caught anything yet?" asked Selma.
"No, not yet," replied the dwarf.
"Well, I'm sure I can fish better than that. Would you +mind letting me try a little while?"
"Not at all—not at all!" said the dwarf, handing the line to
