THE MINNOWS
'And there's giving money's worth for the money; that is to say, Work, Labor.'
'Your words are as fine as a sermon,' said Tom.
'But look here, Tom,' proceeded the man in green, drawing his hand out of his pocket, and showing a little dripping fish in his palm, 'what do you call this?'
'I call it a very small minnow,' said Tom.
'And do you see anything particular about its tail?'
'It looks uncommon bright,' answered Tom, stooping to look at it.
'It does,' said the man in green, 'and now I'll tell you a secret, for I'm resolved to be your friend. Every minnow in this stream—they are very scarce, mind you—but every one of them has a silver tail.'
'You don't say so,' exclaimed Tom, opening his eyes very wide; 'fishing for minnows, and being one's own master, would be a great deal pleasanter than the sort of life I've been leading this many a day.'
'Well, keep the secret as to where you get them; and much good may it do you,' said the man in green.
'Farewell, I wish you joy of your freedom.' So saying, he walked away, leaving Tom on the brink of the stream, full of joy and pride.
He went to his master, and told him that he had an opportunity for bettering himself, and should not work for him any longer. The next day he arose with the dawn, and went to work to search for minnows. But of all the minnows in the world never were any so nimble as those with silver tails. They were very shy, too, and had as many turns and doubles
