Winthrop made fast his little skiff between it and the shore, and climbing upon the rock, he and Rufus sat down and fell to work; for to play they had not come hither, but to catch their supper.
The spirit of silence seemed to have possessed them both, for with very few words they left the boat and took their places, and with no words at all for some time the hooks were baited and the lines thrown.

Profound stillness -- and then the flutter of a poor little fish as he struggled out of his element, or the stir made by one of the fishers in reaching after the bait-basket -- and then all was still again.

The lines drooped motionless in the water; the eyes of the fishers wandered off to the distant blue, and then came back to their bobbing corks.

Thinking, both the young men undoubtedly were, for it could not have been the mackerel that called such grave contemplation into their faces.
"It's confoundedly hot!" said Rufus at length very expressively.
His brother seemed amused.
"What are you laughing at ?" said Rufus a little sharply.
"Nothing -- I was thinking you had been in the shade lately.
We've got 'most enough, I guess." "Shade! -- I wish there was such a thing.

This is a pretty place though, if it wasn't August, -- and if one was doing anything but sitting on a rock fishing." "Isn't it better than Asphodel ?" said Winthrop.
"Asphodel! -- When are you going to get away from here, Winthrop ?" "I don't know." "Has anything been done about it ?" "No." "It is time, Winthrop." Winthrop was silent.
"We must manage it somehow.