He laughed as though he was never going to catch his breath, and Paul was afraid he would choke.

He rolled on the ground in paroxysms of mirth, stood up and leaned against a tree shouting out such loud guffaws that it was difficult to tell whether it was through amusement or fright.

Paul got out on the bank and tried to quiet him, but was unsuccessful and entered the water again and paddled away.

For some distance the voice of that hilarious fisherman was borne to him on the breeze.
As evening closed in he could hear the darkies who had been paid off, it being Saturday night, singing and arguing along the shore.

A dense fog soon enveloped everything, however, and he could not see which way he was going.