Uncle Eb was a born lover of fun.

But he had a solemn way of fishing that was no credit to a cheerful man.

It was the same when he played the bass viol, but that was also a kind of fishing at which he tried his luck in a roaring torrent of sound.

Both forms of dissipation gave him a serious look and manner, that came near severity.

They brought on his face only the light of hope and anticipation or the shadow of disappointment.
We had finished our stent early the day of which lam writing.