hrough the fields.

Everybody got off at Courbevoie and rushed for the stage for Bezons. A
crowd of fishermen crowded on top of the coach, holding their rods in
their hands, giving the vehicle the appearance of a porcupine.

All along the road men were travelling in the same direction as though
on a pilgrimage to an unknown Jerusalem. They were carrying those long,
slender sticks resembling those carried by the faithful returning from
Palestine. A tin box on a strap was fastened to their backs. They were
in a hurry.

At Bezons the river appeared. People were lined along bath banks, men
in frock coats, others in duck suits, others in blouses, women, children
and even young girls of marriageable age; all were fishing.

Patissot started for the dam where his friend Boivin was waiting
for him. The latter greeted him rather coolly. He had just made the
acquaintance of a big, fat man of about fifty, who seemed very strong
and whose skin was tanned. All three hired a big boat and lay off almost
under the fall of the dam, where the fish are most plentiful.

Boivin was immediately ready. He baited his line and threw it out,
and then sat motionless, watching the little float with extraordinary
concentration. From time to time he would jerk his line out of the water
and cast it farther out. The fat gentleman threw out his well-baited
hooks, put his line down beside him, filled his pipe, lit it, crossed
his arms, and, without another glance at the cork, he watched the water
flow by. Patissot once more began trying to stick sand worms on his
hooks. After about five minutes of this occupation he called to Boivin;
"Monsieur Boivin, would you be so kind as to help me put these creatures
on my hook? Try as I will, I can't seem to succeed." Boivin raised his
head: "Please don't disturb me, Monsieur Patissot; we are not here for
pleasure!" However, he baited the line, which Patissot then threw out,
carefully imitating all the motions of his friend.

The boat was tossing wildly, shaken by the waves, and spun round like a
top by the current, although anchored at both ends. Patissot, absorbed
in the sport, felt a vague kind of uneasiness; he was uncomfortably
heavy and somewhat dizzy.

They caught nothing. Little Boivin, very nervous, was gesticulating and
shaking his head in despair. Patissot was as sad as though some disaster
had overtaken him. The fat gentleman alone, still motionless, was
quietly smoking without paying any attenti