"O, I saye," cried Mr. Perrowne, "look at that lovely little island out
there! See, you can hardly see it because of the black shadows. What a
place to fish! and here we are without a single rod."
"Ain't no need to trouble about rods," remarked Ben; "I kin cut you
half-a-dozen in two shakes of a dead lamb's taiul."
"And I've got three hooked lines," added the lawyer, producing part of
his Beaver River purchase from his breast pocket. The dominie did not
wish to trust himself in a doubtful craft with Coristine again, and he
distrusted the Captain, save on the _Susan Thomas_. His former success
in fishing, and his present pleasant relations with Perrowne, prompted
him to join that gentleman in practising the gentle art. But what about
bait? The question having been put to Toner, who returned with three
springy saplings, and worms having been suggested, that veteran
fisherman told Mr. Perrowne that he might as well look for a gold mine
as for worms in new land. When, however, some envelopes were produced
from various pockets, he proceeded to fill them with grasshoppers and
locusts.
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