"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 attention to his line. At last Patissot,
disgusted, turned toward him and said in a mournful voice:

"They are not biting, are they?"

He quietly replied:

"Of course not!"

Patissot surprised, looked at him.

"Do you ever catch many?"

"Never!"

"What! Never?"