Some strolled about but none out of the radius of that melodious magnetism, and Pee-wee remained undisturbed on the romantic isle of eats.
He sat upon the edge of the island, the extreme western coast, fishing for eels, with a string, a bent pin and a salted almond.

It seemed that the eels did not care for salted almonds, so Pee-wee endeavored to tempt them with a chocolate bonbon but the bonbon dissolved on the pin, forming a sort of subterranean chocolate sundae, and the eels ignored it.
"I bet I know what's the matter," said Pee-wee; "they're afraid to come near the island on account of the lights." At all events the eels appeared to shun the neighborhood of the party; they were not in society.
Just then Pee-wee had an inspiration.

In the light of its consequences it was probably the most momentous inspiration that he ever had.

"I know what I'll do," he said.

"I'll use a long, long stick that'll reach way, way, way out." And he glanced about him in quest of a "long, long stick" with which to beguile the bashful eels.