caterpillar winding through 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;