'em poles an' git 'em to work, an' they 're out o' mischief fur
that day. They 'd like it better 'n cannib'ling, or cuttin' out
idles, or scratchin' picters all over theirselves, an' bimeby--not
too suddent, ye know, to scare 'em--ye could begin on that story,
an' they could n't stan' that, not a heath'n on 'em. Won't ye
speak to the 'Merican Board about it, an' sen' out a few fishin'
mishneries, with poles an' lines an' tackle gen'ally? I 've tried
it on dreffle bad folks, an' it alters done 'em good. But"--so
almost all his simple talk ended--"I wish I could begin to be a
fisher o' men. I 'm gettin' on now, I 'm nigh seventy, an' I aint
got much time, ye see."

One afternoon in July there came over Franconia Notch one of those
strangely sudden tempests which sometimes visit that mountain
country. It had been warm that day, unusually warm for that
refreshingly cool spot; but suddenly the sky grew dark and darker,
almost to blackness, there was roll of thunder and flash of
lightning, and then poured down the rain--rain at first, but soon
hail in large frozen bullets, which fiercely pelted any who
ventured outdoors, rattled against the windows of the Profile House
with sharp cracks like sounds of musketry, and lay upon the piazza
in heaps like snow. And in the midst of the wild storm it was
remembered that two boys, guests at the hotel, had gone up Mount
Lafayette alone that day. They were young boys, unused to mountain
climbing, and their friends were anxious. It was found that Dash
had followed them; and just as some one was to be sent in search of
them, a boy from the stables brought the information that Fishin'
Jimmy had started up the mountain after them as the storm broke.
"Said if he could n't be a fisher o' men, mebbe he knowed nuff to
ketch boys," went on our informant, seeing nothing more in the