But food he must have.

So he had dug some worms and put them in one of his trick cans and then proceeded to untangle the line.

Having secured an unknotted length of five or six feet he equipped this with a fish-hook of his own manufacture and sallied forth toward the river.

He was not only hungry, but sleepy, and it never occurred to him that this was the exorbitant price of four cigarettes.
Hunger and sleep vied with each other in the shuffling body of Keekie Joe as he crossed Main Street and cut across the fields toward the marshes.
Down by the river was a little shanty in which was a mass of fishing seine.

It stood hospitably open, for the hinges of the door were all rusted away and the dried and shrunken boards lay on the marshy ground before the entrance.