Jimmy, during Skipper Ed's absence, was stopping with Bobby and Mrs.Abel as usual, and the two boys were out bright and early to haul a trout net which was set in the mouth of a river which flowed into the bay not far away.
It was one of those ideal days which come now and again to that northern country in spring, as though to emphasize by contrast the fact that the long bleak winter is over.

The sun shone brilliantly and the rippling waves of the nearly placid bay sparkled and glinted alluringly, spicy odors of the forest perfumed the air, and birds twittered gleefully.
"Let's go egging, Bobby," Jimmy suggested, as the boys, pulling leisurely back from the river, turned Abel's old skiff to the beach landing place below the cabin.
"All right," agreed Bobby, "let's do, as soon as we take care of the trout.

Mother said last night she'd like some eggs.

We haven't had any yet this year." Bobby always called Abel "Father," and Mrs.Abel "Mother." "I'm sure there must be lots of ducks and gull and tern eggs out on the islands, and puffin and auk eggs on the cliffs along the shore.

It's lots of fun!" said Jimmy enthusiastically.
So they hurried in with the trout, which they dressed, washed, and finally salted down in a barrel.