Here, Sam--just bend on this hook for me, while I see how the brook is further up.

I've no time to lose,--and then you can go sun yourself somewhere." Preston bounded off; Sam stood with the tackle in hand, silently at work.

Daisy sat still on a stone near by, looking at him.
"Were you hurt, Sam ?" she asked tenderly.
"No, Miss Daisy." This answer was not discontented but stoical.
"As soon as you have done that, Sam, run down to Mrs.Dipper's, and maybe she can give you something dry to put on while your clothes can be hung out." Silence on Sam's part.
"Have you almost finished that ?" "Yes, ma'am." "Then run off, Sam! Make haste to Mrs.Dipper's and get yourself dry--and don't come back till you are quite dry, Sam." Sam finished his piece of work, flung down the line, and with a grateful "Thank you, Miss Daisy!" set off at a bound.

Daisy watched him running at full speed down the brook till he was out of sight.
"Has he done it ?" said Preston returning.

"The rascal hasn't put any bait on.