“Nothing like pipe-smoke while fishing!” he say for smiles.

“I notice,” is feebly voice from me.

Pretty soon Hon. Boss make electric movement with wet string. He bite pipe more cruelly while halling in one enraged cod who mock him with angry mouth.

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“A beautiful fish!” he yellup joyly. “All see it!”

All those sicknesses report “Um” with unhappy nose.

“Are he not beautiful fish?” he ask it to me.

“Perhapsly when younger,” I disengage while holding my head on.

Of suddenly Hon. Mrs. Liddbeater arise upwards from pillows like a fried snake.

“For sake of your children,” repeat her, “I ask you to cease making clams and people and Japs and fish miserable for selfish joy of your depravity. Put us somewheres where we can run away.”

“Fishing cannot be accomplished by running away,” he deploy with Samurai expression. “I never depart off until I have caught 14.”

“O!!” yellup Eclaire looping beside Stanhope and looking less engaged than usual. “Drowning would be painless after this.”

“If you drowned I could save you,” dictate Stanhope looking very pale Yale.

“Any shipwreck would be welcome,” mone Oliver greenishly.

“Will nothing stop off your mulish fishing?” require Hon. Mrs. waking up from her death.

“Unless the boat sinks I shall stay remaining here until I catch 14,” he growell.

That ocean now look entirely double to me and I could feel my courage rolling around inside my lung.

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