The skiff at the bank bore a strange rigging of uprights and crosspoles and a travis bar with lines and hooks hanging from it.
I could not help giving Metcalfe a wipe for his lamentations, observing I should have thought he had enough to attend to at home.
They are not the fries of your neighborhood diner, tavern, or burgeria.
She missed the fish diet of her own country, and twice every summer she sent the boys to the river, twenty miles to the southward, to fish for channel cat.
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