HewasanoldmanwhofishedaloneinaskiffintheGulfStreamandhehadgoy-fourdaysnowwithouttakingafish.Inthefirstfortydaysaboyhadbeenwithhim.Butafterfortydayswithoutafishtheboy’sparentshadtoldhimthattheoldmanwasnowdefinitelyandfinallysalao，whichistheworstformofunlucky，andtheboyhadgoheirordersinanotherboatwhichcaughtthreegoodfishthefirstweek.Itmadetheboysadtoseetheoldmaneineachdaywithhisskiffemptyandhealwayswentdowntohelphimcarryeitherthecoiledlihegaffandharpoonandthesailthatwasfurledarou.Thesailatchedwithfloursad，furled，itlookedliketheflagofpermadefeat.

Theoldmanwasthinandgauntwithdeepwrihebackofhishebrownblotchesofthebenevolentskincerthesunbringsfromitsrefleoropicseawereonhischeeks.Theblotchesranwelldownthesidesofhisfadhishandshadthedeep-creasedscarsfromhandlingheavyfishonthecords.Buthesescarswerefresh.Theywereasoldaserosionsinafishlessdesert.

Everythingabouthimwasoldexcepthiseyesandtheywerethesamecolorastheseaandwerecheerfulandued.

“Santiago，”theboysaidtohimastheyclimbe
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