One chilly day I was walking with my friends down to the edge of the lake. The sun was shining, but the air still felt brisk. My friends and I looked at the ice on top of the water, and after testing it with our feet, determined it was thick enough to hold us. We waddled out onto it as quickly as we could.
“Are we going fishing?” I called back to my friend Casey, who was lagging behind. He had a nasty little habit of always stopping to look at things on the way.
“Of course,” he answered. “But please don’t be too impatient to wait for me to catch up.”
“Me patient!” I exclaimed. “Never!”
After a short time wandering over the ice, we came to a fine little spot, and I stopped and prepared to drop my line.
“Oh that sweet, sweet sound of a fish biting!” Casey sighed as he fished a book on patience out of his pocket. “I dream of the day when I, too, will have enough patience to wait for it.”
“Patience?” I said scornfully. I was wiggling my line impatiently. “Why should you wait when you can fish?”
“I will read about it,” he answered, “while you fish!”
Just as he was getting himself settled, a big fish leaped out of the water and nearly knocked him down. I seized my opportunity and dashed up my fish as quick as lightning.
“There you are!” I cried, and agilely jumped over the other little penguins in front of me as I advanced to check Casey’s slowness. I was about to jump in front of him entirely, when suddenly the pole jerked right out of his flippers.
“Now look what you’ve caused,” grumbled Moody the Owl from a nearby tree. “Now you’ve done wrong to both of us!”
I called the others to attention and started my line. But Casey was upset. He dropped the lid of his book on his flippers and waved his flippers angrily at me. Fortunately, all the commotion had waked up Old Grandfather Penguin, and he hobbled two steps forward before he caught the book in his beak.
“I want no noise-Crass, crass, crass, crass! You youngsters nowadays have no patience,” said he. “Impulsiveness does not pay.”
Now I all nearly felt ashamed and quieted down, and still higher I hung my head when with a sweet little nudge Casey passed me the fishing pole and gave my line a jerk, which meant to prevent my fishing any longer till he came up with us.
Later, though, something happened that made even Casey jump. Getting a little more comfortable, he let the book drop down behind him. While in that case it slipped between two feet of ice, and before I could get a net to pull it up the ink had completely run into the ground where it fell.
“Well, for Heaven’s sake!” I exclaimed.
“I’ll always be patient-rather than have to hear this any longer,” said Casey.
So I caught a big fish, but it didn’t constitute all my rewards: the book was found beside the hole wherein it had dropped. I wish I could give you that portion of its contents which chastised my impatience and appealed to Casey’s common sense. For we all learned even a greater lesson of waiting.
“Good things come to those who wait!”