Chapter 22 – FishingThursday Afternoon, September 24th –––––––– Beth picked her way down the embankment to the narrow stream. She was a good thirty yards downstream from the hole where minnows usually could be found but the bank was much steeper there and, even lying on her stomach, she hadn’t been able to reach that far with her net. The stream was low, the water seeming to barely flow even though they’d had a good amount of rain. Where it usually came to her knees, now it was barely ankle deep. She trudged up the rocky creek bed carefully in her old mucking boots. They were made for cleaning animal stalls, not for wading but they were all she had. Maybe, she thought, I can get Papa to buy me a pair of waders like he bought for Cole. When she reached the hole, she dipped the lip of he
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