By Lee Robinson

Our household contri­bution to the lunatic fringe sauntered out to the kitchen exuding sweetness and light last Saturday and quoth, "The kids have been bugging me to take them fishing Sunday and I don't really want to go myself but you know how it is. They're little for such a short time."

We have heard this blarney so  often we just went about our duties and said nothing. This apparently disturbed him so he pulled a switch.

"Look" he went on. "why don't we all go?I know a swell spot right alongside a river over by Cle Elum. We can pack some food and you can just lay around and read. Besides, it's always nice east of the Cascades.

So being at heart, a charitable girl, I consented and the next morning, while the sane people of the world were stiff asleep, I found myself  mashed into one corner of the car along with three  male-type fishermen and an assortment of poles and creels, It was a pleasant enough trip with the exception of his admon­ishment when we kicked over the can of worms and they crawled all over the floor mat.

The weather at 5 a.m. is abominable even when the sun is shining and last Sunday it wasn't. It was raining. But Cheerful Charlie, when he was­n't leading the group in song, would remind us every so often that as soon as we crossed the pass we'd run away from the rain.

Surprise, surprise, he was right for once and on arriving he organized us into a work crew. While we  spread out our camp in a lovely gravel pit, he disappeared, as was to be expected. But I didn't mind, we had food, the sun was shining, the river rippled peace­fully and all was right with the world for several hours.

Then what had been a cloud­less sky suddenly grew murky. The first drops began to fall and I  hastily grabbed all the gear and in two or three trips had everything thrown into the car , by the time the heavens burst.

The only satisfactory thing about his weather prediction was the fact that he was some ­place out there In the middle of it, wearing a tee shirt, the young 'ens happily casting their lines too. The rain really didn't disturb me  too much. I still had my  book so I just curled up in the front seat and waited.

After a while there was a tapping on the side win­dow and through the steamy glass .I could make out what first seemed to be a bedraggled poodle, standing upright, Yep, it was the editor. So I  rolled the window down just a mite and he stuck his head in, water dripping off the end of his proboscis . 

"Isn't fishing fun?" I said jauntily. "Let's go home," he growled.  The young 'ens had a ball.