Publisher's Synopsis
"Give me a flounder, Johnny?" said a little girl of eleven, dressed in coarse and ragged garments, as she stooped down and looked into the basket of the dirty young fisherman, who sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the pier. "I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round here tryin' to hook my fish." "You hooked 'em," said another juvenile angler who sat on the capsill of the pier by Johnny's side. "Who says I hooked 'em?" blustered Johnny, whose little dirty paws involuntarily assumed the form of a pair of fists, scientifically disposed and ready to be the instruments of the owner's vengeance upon the traducer of his character. "I say so," added Tommy Howard, who did not seem to be at all alarmed at the warlike attitude of his fellow-angler. "Say it again, and I'll smash your head," continued Johnny, jumping up from his seat. "Didn't you hear me? Once is enough."
