It met her notions.
Then she went to get her fishing-rod which lay fallen into the water.
"O Preston!" she exclaimed, "there is something on it!--it's heavy!--it's a fish!" "It _is_ a fish!" repeated Preston, as a jerk of Daisy's line threw it out high and dry on the shore--"and what's more, it's a splendid one.
Daisy, you've done it now!" "And papa will have it for breakfast! Preston, put it in a pail of water till we come back.

There's that tin pail--we don't want it for anything--won't you?
O I have caught one!" It was done; and Daisy and Preston set off on a charming walk up the brook; but though they tried the virtue of their bait in various places, however it was, that trout was the only one caught.

Daisy thought it was a fine day's fishing.
They found Sam, sound and dry, mounting guard over the tin pail when they came back to it.

And I think Daisy held to her own understanding of the text that had been in debate; for there was a fine portion of lemon pie, jelly and sandwiches, laid by for him in the basket, and by Sam devoured with great appreciation..