o want to catch something this time."

"All right: I won't speak if you don't."

"First who speaks pays sixpence," said Mike.

"Agreed. Silence!"

The fishing began, but fishing did not mean catching, and the time went
on with nothing to take their attention but an unusual clamouring on the
part of the sea-birds, which, instead of sitting about preening and
drying their plumage, or with their feathers almost on end, till they
looked like balls as they sat asleep in the sun, kept on rising in
flights, making a loud fluttering whistling as they swept round and
round the cove, constantly passing out of sight before swooping down
again upon the great rocks which shut out the view of the open sea.

Lines were drawn up, rebaited, and thrown in again, with the faint
splashes made by the leads, and they tried close in to the side, to the
other side, to right and left; but all in vain,--the baits were eaten
off, and they felt that something was at their hooks, but whether they
struck directly, or gave plenty of time, it was always the same, nothing
was taken and the hours passed away.

They were performing, though, what was for them quite a feat, for each
boy had fully made up his mind that he would not have to pay that
sixpence. They looked at each other, and laughingly grimaced, and moved
their lips rapidly, as if forming words, and abused the fish silently
for not caring to be caught, but not a word was spoken; till all at
once, after a tremendous display of patience, Vince suddenly struck and
cried:

"Got him at last!"

"Sixpence!" said Mike.

"All right!" said Vince quietly: "I was ready to pay ninepence so as to
say something. I've got him, though, and he's a big one too."

"Be steady, then. Don't lose him, for I'm sick of trying, and I did
want for us to have something for tea."

"Oh, I've hooked him right enough; but he don't stir."

"Bah! Caught in the bottom."

"Oh no, I'm not. He was walking right away with the bait, and when I
struck I felt him give a regular good wallop."

"Then it's a conger, and it's got its tail round a rock."

"May be," said Vince. "Well, congers aren't bad eating."

"B-r-r-ur!" shuddered Mike. "I hate hooking them. Line gets twisted
into such a knot. You may cut it up: I shan't."

"Yes, I'll cut him in chunks and fry him when I get him," said Vince.
"He's coming, but it isn't a conger. Comes up like a flat fish, only
there can't be any here."

"Oh, I don't know