I put on the other half and tried again.

I prayed straight along, but the tears would come that time, and the prayer was no powerful effort like Brother Hastings would have made; it was little torn up pieces mostly: "O Lord, please do make only one fish bite!" At last one did bite good, so I swung carefully that time, and landed it on the grass, but it was so little and it hit a stone and was killed.

I had no stringer to put it back in the water to keep cool, and the sun was hot that day, like times in the fall.

Stretched on the roots, with it shining on my back, and striking the water and coming up from below, I dripped with heat and excitement.
I threw that one away, put on another worm, and a big turtle took it, the hook, and broke my line, and almost pulled me in.

I wouldn't have let go if it had, for I just had to have a fish.