EVEN Robin Redbreast knew it, and sang his "cheer up" song from the topmost bough of the old elm tree, as much as to say, "What's a little wetting, anyway?" And the chickens knew it and went singing dolefully about because they didn't like wet weather; and Mother Duck and her twelve yellow ducklings knew it, and went about quacking merrily and looking happy because they did like it; and Buddy Jim knew it and didn't care either way; he liked the rain or he liked the shine. But first, he thought he would go and see what Old Bob the Gardener was doing.

He found Bob in the tool house, reeling up some fascinating-looking fishing lines.

Old Bob looked up as Buddy Jim entered, smiling in his cheery way, and the little boy thought that as long as Bob smiled that way he didn't care how much it rained.

"Like to go fishing with me, over to Long Lake, Son?" asked Bob. "I promised you I'd take you fishing some day, and this is going to be a good day for the fish to rise."

"Would I?" said Buddy Jim. "Thanks for asking me, Bob, and I'll be ready in no time."

"Be ready in half an hour from now," said Old Bob the Gardener, "and ask Mary the cook to put us up some lunch, because we shall be gone all day. I'll go and harness old Maud."

By the time that Old Bob the gardener was at the door with Maud and the buggy, Buddy Jim was ready.

He looked exactly like a little fisherman in his yellow slicker, and long rubber boots, with his old felt hat turned down. Mother laughed as she kissed him "goodbye" and wished him luck.

It was great fun riding along the road through the woods, and listening to the rain falling on the leaves. But there wasn't a thing in sight except a flock of crows.

"Have you aways lived around here, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim.

"Sure," said Old Bob the gardener, "ever since I was a baby; right over in that field yonder was where I used to go to school; the school house is gone now, and there's nothing left to mark the place except a clump of lilac bushes that I helped the teacher to set out one spring day, when I wasn't a mite bigger than you are now."

"I remember that day well," he went on. "I was late getting the bushes planted and so I took a short cut through these woods and just as I got about where we are now, who should come from behind a big hemlock tree but old lady Black Bear, thin as a rail from her long winter sleep, and looking hungry."

"My!" said Buddy Jim, his eyes wide open. "What did you do?"

"I'm afraid I was rude to the lady," said Old Bob, "because I did not even wish her 'good evening,'—I ran for home just as fast as my legs could carry me."

"Did she run after you?" breathlessly asked Buddy Jim.

The old man laughed. "I couldn't truthfully say," said he, "I didn't look behind me."

"I think I should have done the same thing," said Buddy Jim.

"And I wouldn't blame you, Son," said Old Bob the gardener, "but here we are, hook, line, and sinker, and we will soon find out if Mr. and Mrs. Perch are at home."

As soon as old Maud was hobbled and turned loose to graze, Buddy Jim and Old Bob the gardener launched the old flat-bottomed boat at the landing, and began fishing.

Bob "baited" the hooks, and they both cast off. Old Bob the gardener caught the first fish, a beautiful big perch, and in no time at all Buddy Jim had one also.

It was such good fishing that they soon had all they wanted, and Old Bob the gardener said that they would go ashore now. But Buddy Jim begged so hard for just one more cast that Old Bob said, "all right," and stooped to put the fish in the basket.

A startled exclamation from Buddy Jim made him turn, just in time to catch the little chap as he was going head first out of the boat.

"Here, Son," said the old man as he pulled him back into the boat, "aren't you wet enough yet?"

"O, Bob," panted the little fellow, "I've got a bite—and I think it's a whale—he pulls so—help me land him." So together they pulled him in—about two feet of wiggly, snaky-looking fish!

"What is it, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "I don't like him—he isn't pretty!" "It's an eel," said old Bob the gardener, laughing, "do you want to keep him or shall I throw him overboard?"

"'Deed I do want to keep him," said Buddy Jim, proudly, "I want to show him to Mother."

"All right," said Old Bob the gardener, "but he can't go in the basket with the regular fish. And now we'll go ashore and cook some of our catch for our luncheon."

"How can we make a fire, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "Everything's wet."

"That's easy," said Bob, "I'll go over in the woods and gather some birch bark, and you may pick up some small twigs that will dry quickly, and pile them on that flat rock by the water's edge."

It took only a few minutes for Buddy Jim to gather a big pile of the small dead twigs and branches, and then he sat down on another rock to look at his big eel and think about the fun it had been to land him.

There was no sound at all except the gentle splashing of the rain, when Buddy Jim heard soft footsteps, and then voices. "Now, isn't that a shame?" said a voice. "Some one has been catching our fish again, right out of our own lake!"

"Ssh, Children," said an older voice, "keep quiet—some one may hear you. They have gone away and left the basket open, and I will go and get the fish back again. Just wait here and keep quiet."

Buddy Jim kept quiet, because he very much wished to know which Little Neighbor it was; so quiet indeed, that Mrs. American Mink came fully into sight before she saw him. Buddy Jim knew her at once, because her picture was in one of his Nature books; and he knew also that she is very fond of fish to eat.

She was very much surprised when she saw Buddy Jim and immediately tried to look just like a bit of brown earth, but Buddy Jim spoke, and she knew she had been seen.

"How do you do, Little Neighbor," said he, "and what can I do for you?"

"You can go away from here, and stay away, and not come catching my fish," said Mother Mink, very crossly. "How do you think I can make a living for my children, if you come and take the food away from me?"

Buddy Jim laughed. "Don't be impolite, Little Neighbor," he said. "The fish belong to us all, but I'm willing you should have your share."

"I'm going to take my share whether you are willing or not," said Mother Mink, and without saying "thank you," she grabbed Buddy Jim's big eel and ran away with it!

Buddy Jim looked after her in astonishment! No other Little Neighbor had ever been so impolite.

Just then Old Bob the gardener came back with a load of birch bark. Buddy Jim's throat felt a little choky, but he was brave about it.

"Mrs. Mink called to see me while you were away, Bob," he said, "and she took my big eel away with her."

"Well, well!" said Old Bob the gardener, "wasn't she bold? She must have had young ones with her. But don't you care, Son, Mary wouldn't have cooked him anyway. She thinks eels aren't fish."

"I wanted to show him to Mother," said Buddy Jim, "He was such a big one."

"We'll go out again right after lunch," said Old Bob the gardener, "I know where there's a pickerel hole, and a pickerel is a regular fish!"