As for the boy, the change in his countenance was marvellous to see.

Something new and astonishing had come into the world.

Oh, I know what a thing it is to be a boy and to work in trouting time! "How near are you planting, Ben ?" I asked.
"About fourteen inches." So we began in fine spirits.

I was delighted with the favourable beginning of my enterprise; there is nothing which so draws men together as their employment at a common task.
Ben was a lad some fifteen years old-very stout and stocky, with a fine open countenance and a frank blue eye--all boy.

His nose was as freckled as the belly of a trout.