master meadow mouse peeped out of the end of his tunnel and gave a faint squeak. as he watched, he saw peter mink's head, on its long neck, flash out from beneath the overhanging bank of the brook.

"what are you doing up there?" master meadow mouse called.

"fishing!" said peter mink promptly.

"aren't you a long way from the water?" master meadow mouse inquired.

"with a pole, one doesn't need to stand right at the water's edge," said peter mink.

"but you haven't a pole," master meadow mouse pointed out. "at least, i can't see that you have one."

peter was greatly surprised—or seemed to be.

"i declare!" he said. "i forgot to bring my pole with me. and if you hadn't reminded me of it i shouldn't have known what was the trouble. i was wondering why i didn't get any bites." as he spoke he slid down the lower part of the bank and stretched himself like a cat. but all the time he was looking at master meadow mouse out of the corner of his eye. "what are you doing here?" peter mink asked pleasantly.

"i came to take a swim," master meadow mouse explained.

"have you had it?"

"not yet!" master meadow mouse told him. "and i believe i'll wait till to-morrow."

"the water's fine to-day," said peter mink. "i've been in and out of it forty times."

but master meadow mouse wasn't to be persuaded so easily.

"i might spoil your fishing if i went in now," he remarked.

"i don't care if you do," said peter mink. "the pleasure of seeing you enjoy a swim would more than repay me for the loss of the biggest fish in this brook."

now, such speeches sounded very strange, coming from the mouth of a surly rascal like peter mink, who was never known to do anybody a good turn. master meadow mouse pondered over this last statement. there seemed to be a catch in it somewhere. and he decided, finally, that he had discovered it.

"i didn't know there were any fish in this brook worth catching," he piped. "they say there were trout here once. but now there's nothing bigger than a minnow."

peter mink nodded. "that's the truth," he said. "if this brook has a fish that's as meaty as you are, i've never seen him."

"ah!" cried master meadow mouse. "you'd far rather catch me than catch a fish in this pool."

peter mink grinned at him brazenly.

"i won't deny it," he replied.

"but you tried to deceive me," master meadow mouse told him. "you said—when i asked you what you were doing here—you said that you were fishing."

"so i was!" peter mink exclaimed with a horrid chuckle. "i was fishing for mice. and if you'd been a little less careful i'd have caught one, too."

"good day!" said master meadow mouse. "good day and good-by!"

"don't say good-by!" peter mink corrected. "say, 'till we meet again!'"

but master meadow mouse had already pulled his head out of sight and vanished inside his tunnel.