Старик и море

           "Iknowit,"theboysaid."I’llberightback.Haveanothercoffee. Wehavecredithere." 

           Hewalkedoff,bare-footedonthecoralrocks,totheicehousewherethebaitswerestored. 

           Theoldmandrankhiscoffeeslowly. Itwasallhewouldhavealldayandheknewthatheshouldtakeit. Foralongtimenoweatinghadboredhimandhenevercarriedalunch. Hehadabottleofwaterinthebowoftheskiffandthatwasallheneededfortheday. 

           Theboywasbacknowwiththesardinesandthetwobaitswrappedinanewspaper andtheywentdownthetrailtotheskiff,feelingthepebbledsandundertheirfeet, andliftedtheskiffandslidherintothewater. 

           "Goodluckoldman." 

           "Goodluck,"theoldmansaid. Hefittedtheropelashingsoftheoarsontothetholepinsand,leaningforwardagainstthethrustofthebladesinthewater,hebegantorowoutoftheharbourinthedark. Therewereotherboatsfromtheotherbeachesgoingouttosea andtheoldmanheardthedipandpushoftheiroarseventhoughhecouldnotseethemnowthemoonwasbelowthehills. 

           Sometimessomeonewouldspeakinaboat. Butmostoftheboatsweresilentexceptforthedipoftheoars. Theyspreadapartaftertheywereoutofthemouthoftheharbourandeachoneheadedforthepartoftheoceanwherehehopedtofindfish. Theoldmanknewhewasgoingfarout andheleftthesmellofthelandbehindandrowedoutintothecleanearlymorningsmelloftheocean.