"Take your fish!" he said.

He turned and plunged into the river, recrossed it as he came, gathered up the dinner pail and shovel, passed Mary Malone, a tumbled heap in the bushes, and started toward his cabin.
The Black Bass struck the water with a splash, and sank to the mud of the bottom, where he lay joyfully soaking his dry gills, parched tongue, and glazed eyes.

He scooped water with his tail, and poured it over his torn jaw.

And then he said to his progeny, "Children, let this be a warning to you.

Never rise to but one grub at a time.