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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Hi! this is nicer than swimming! And them towels for me! Ain't they prime! I wonder what Shiner would say if he could see 'em." This was an unfortunate suggestion. It almost, though not quite, overset the exhilaration of the bath, and as he stepped out upon the rug he seemed to see the reproachful face of his mate looking up at him and questioning: "Why ain't I in it, too?" "Why wasn't he?
This country contains too many patriots who would cut their own President's throat for a gold piece. Don't ever show more than one shiner at a time, or you may lose it all."
But the comely, slender, prettily-dressed prize Fancy Day fell to Dick's lot, in spite of some private machinations of the farmer, for the reason that Mr. Shiner, as a richer man, had shown too much assurance in asking the favour, whilst Dick had been duly courteous. We gain a good view of our heroine as she advances to her place in the ladies' line.
I have had shiners so tame from frequently feeding them in this way that I could handle them, though not to their own good, for the shiner is as tender as he is beautiful and just a few hard knocks, that a mummy-chog would pass with a flip of his tail, will wreck him.
"Don't let her coax you into letting her try that old brute, Shiner. He's almost an outlaw." "Love me, love my horse!" The quotation seemed careless. Sheila's face told Clyde nothing. "'Like master, like horse' is more appropriate," said Sheila. "Oh, I'm not an outlaw yet," he said, with just the slightest pause before the word.
Shiner went on singing "'The miller was drown'd in his pond, The weaver was hung in his yarn, And the d ran away with the little tail-or, With the broadcloth under his arm." "That's a terrible crippled rhyme, if that's your rhyme!" said Dick, with a grain of superciliousness in his tone. "It's no use your complaining to me about the rhyme!" said Mr. Shiner.
Shiner was to restrain a considerable flow of spontaneous chat that would otherwise have burst from young Dewy along the drive homeward. And a certain remark he had hazarded to her, in rather too blunt and eager a manner, kept the young lady herself even more silent than Dick.
In America the various kinds of chub, sucker, dace, shiner, &c. are little esteemed and are regarded as spoils for the youthful angler only, or as baits for the better fish in which the continent is so rich. In England, however, the Cyprinidae have an honoured place in the affections of all who angle "at the bottom," while in Europe some of them have a commercial value as food-fishes.
Yet for pickerel fishing through the ice the shiner is the king of bait and fortunate indeed are those fishermen who can obtain enough shiners to afford to use them lavishly. Properly hooked, just under the after back fin, they survive fairly well and their silver wrigglings are hard for a pickerel to resist.
"Well, my name's Johnny Jones, though the boys call me Shiner," said the boy with the papers under his arm, "an' my chum here's named Ben Treat. Now you know us; an' we'll call you Polly, so's to make you feel more's if you was home."
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