The Little Fish: the full story
Part One · An Empty Net
A fisherman rowed out to sea at sunrise. He let down his net and waited patiently.
At last he pulled it up. He hoped for a heavy catch. But there was only one tiny silver fish.
"Is that all?" said the fisherman. "What a very small fish. It is hardly worth the trouble."
The little fish looked up at him. "Please let me go," it said. "I am too small to make a meal."
"If you put me back, I will grow big. Then you can catch me again. I will be worth your trouble."
The fisherman scratched his chin. "A fish in my net is certain," he said. "A fish in the sea is only a hope."
He held up the little fish and studied it carefully. It shone in the sun like a new coin.
Its tail drooped. Its eyes were round and shiny and very sad.
The fisherman sighed. "Oh, all right," he said. "Off you go, little one."
He dipped his hand in the sea. The little fish slipped away with a flash.
He let down his net again, and he waited. He waited patiently all morning long.
The sun climbed high. The net came up with some seaweed. Then it came up with an empty shell.
At noon it came up with nothing at all. In the afternoon it was empty again.
The boat bobbed home at dusk. The bucket was empty, and his stomach rumbled.
"That fish would have made a supper," he said. Far off, a small silver fish leaped from the waves. It splashed and was gone.