“I am always going to row a heavy boat three hundred miles,” drawled a large, fat man, “next year!” Everyone laughed.
“Last year,” said the ardent fisherman, “I lost my metal lure. Wasn’t tied right. A fish carried it off, but he gave it back.”
“Gave it back? How come?” asked his fat friend.
“Seems he didn’t want it, so he hung it on a fisherman’s net and the fisherman gave it to me.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
“I’ve got the lure to prove it.”
“Jeanne,” Florence whispered, “I’m going fishing first chance I get. A fellow has a little fun coming to him.”
“Yes,” Jeanne admitted, “you have.”
So the long, lazy day passed. It was glorious to sit in the sun, to climb over the rocks, to loaf by the fire without a care.
When the next day dawned— Sh! That was to be quite another matter.