"No fish for supper," said Bob, "and my fault, too, but I'll get some
for breakfast, or my name'll be Dennis." And he did get fish for
breakfast, which was evidently more than His Excellency did, for about
sunset the following evening a guide came paddling over with a large,
square envelope directed to
Mr. "Bobbie."
Inside was this note, written in a small, firm hand:
"Lord Dunbridge presents his compliments to Mr. 'Bobbie,' and thanks him
for the enjoyable fish dinner tendered him last evening. And would Mr.
Bobbie kindly do him an additional favor? Would he come at six o'clock
to-morrow morning to assist a poor fisherman who has had no luck
to-day?"
That night Bob was a regular hero around the camp fire. The boys sang,
"He's a jolly good fellow," and a dozen other gay choruses, while
Bob looked to his tackle and bait, and gathered all the courage he
could muster to meet the great man in the morning. He need not have
trembled--it was no ordeal--for as he paddled up to the big camp a
quiet-looking gentleman with an iron gray moustache and kindly, genial
eyes, stepped down to the landing and held out his hand, and said,
"Good-morning, Bobbie.
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