Hefeltthelightdelicatepullingandthenaharderpullwhenasardine’sheadmusthavebeenmoredifficulttobreakfromthehook.Thentherewasnothing.

“eon，”theoldmansaidaloud.“Makeaurn.Justsmellthem.Aren’ttheylovely？Eatthemgoodnowahereisthetuna.Hardandcoldandlovely.Don’tbeshy，fish.Eatthem.”

Hewaitedwiththeliweenhisthumbandhisfinger，watgitaherlihesametimeforthefishmighthaveswumupordown.Thehesamedelicatepullingtouchagain.

“He’lltakeit，”theoldmansaidaloud.“Godhelphimtotakeit.”

Hedidnottakeitthough.Hewasgoheoldmanothing.

“He’thavegone，”hesaid.“Christknowshe’thavegone.He’smakingaturn.Maybehehasbeenhookedbeforeandherememberssomethingofit.”

Thehegeouthelineandhey.

“Itwasonlyhisturn，”hesaid.“He’lltakeit.”

Heyfeelilepullingandthesomethinghardandunbelievablyheavy.Itwastheweightofthefishahelineslipdown，down，down，unrollingoffthefirstofthetworeservecoils.Asitwentdown，slippinglightlythroughtheoldman’sfingers，hestillcouldfeelthegreatweight，thoughthepressureofhi
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