This is an old suit." It did not look old to my countrified eyes, but I protested no more.
There was a rock a little below where we then were, one of the typical glacial boulders of the Cape--lying just at the edge of the water and projecting out into it.

I helped her up on to this rock and baited her hook with shrimp.
"Shall I cast for you ?" I asked.
"No indeed.

I can do it, thank you." She did, and did it well.

Moreover, the line had scarcely straightened out in the water when it was savagely jerked, the pole bent into a half-circle, and out of the foaming eddy beneath its tip leaped the biggest bass I had seen that day, or in that pond on any day.
"By George!" I exclaimed.

"Can you handle him?
Shall I--" She did not look at me, but I received my orders, nevertheless.
"Please don't! Keep away!" she said sharply.
For nearly fifteen minutes she fought that fish, in and out among the pads, keeping the line tight, handling him at least as well as I could have done.