619. A fisherman’s tale

© Bruce Goodman 21 June 2015

619trout

Logan was almost five years old. He loved to go fishing with his Dad. Sometimes his grandfather would come fishing too. They would fish in the river.

There was a quota limit of five trout per person. Logan’s father and grandfather had caught twenty-three.

“I’d better take these fish home in the car before the ranger turns up,” said Logan’s grandfather.

He went off in the car. Logan and his Dad stayed on fishing.

But who is this approaching? It is a stranger in uniform.

“Hello,” said the stranger. “Have you had any luck with fishing?”

“Yes! Yes!” said Logan excitedly. “My Dad caught twenty-three fish, but my grandfather has taken them home in the car.”

25 thoughts on “619. A fisherman’s tale

  1. Cynthia Jobin

    Too true to be good….a thoroughly delightful story! My mother nearly killed me once, for that kind of truth-telling, but I didn’t understand why. No more than I understood her telling someone on the phone that my Dad wasn’t home…when he was sitting right there at the kitchen table! At what age do we first “practice to deceive,” I wonder…

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  2. Kate Loveton

    Uh oh… out of the mouths of babes.

    My mom always told me that people who didn’t eat their peas went bald. So, at 4 or 5, I diligently ate my peas because I was afraid of growing bald. One day, on a bus returning from some outing with my mom, an old bald-headed man got on the bus and sat across from us. Yours truly, never one to keep her mouth shut, blurted out, “Mom, look at that man! I bet he didn’t eat his peas!”

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