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 little, crowded chapel, falling asleep when Brother Jonas arrived at the latter half of the sermon. What if he slipped through the back yard and crept down the hill to the little sparkling brook, where pikes were plentiful? There he might rest comfortably on the grass under the shady alders, and smoke his pipe and watch the pikes going up the stream until one of them swallowed his bait and hook and was caught. Then he would bring the fish into the kitchen and ask his wife to fry it in butter—fresh, yellow, delicious butter. Um-m-m, what a fine gravy that would make!

So Timmy went down to the brook, seated himself comfortably under a big tree, and threw out his line. In a little while there was a great splash in the water, followed by a violent tug on the line. Timmy jumped to his feet and pulled with all his might. At length he brought up a large pike—so large and fat and firm that he did not remember having ever seen the like of it. It did not take long ere the fish was securely fastened to a string and hung on a hook on Timmy's back porch, awaiting its final fate.

In the mean time Father Jonas had preached his sermon in the chapel across the way, and on returning home he decided to stop at Timmylim's to learn the reason why Timmy had not put in appearance.

"How are you, brother?" said he, entering the spacious drawing-room, where Timmy rested in delightful anticipation of the forthcoming dinner.