Wives, children, and visitors were gathered on the small landing place;
most had dishes or plates in their hands, for the herrings could be
bought straight from the boats. The family from York were there, and
they greeted me as an old friend.

When the little village had been abundantly supplied with fish, the rest
of the herrings were packed up and sent off by train to be sold
elsewhere. It was a pretty animated scene, and I wished I had brought my
sketchbook with me. I thought the arrival of the fishing boats would
make a splendid subject for a picture.

Duncan was too busy even to see me till the fish were all landed,
counted, and disposed of, but he had time for a word with little John,
and as I was finishing my breakfast he came in with the child perched on
his shoulder.

'Good morning, sir,' he said; 'and how do you like our bay this
morning?'

My answer fully satisfied him, and whilst he sat down to his morning
meal I went out to begin my work. It was a lovely day, and I thoroughly
enjoyed the prospect before me. I found a shady place just under the
wall of a house, where my picture would be in sunlight and I and my
easel in shadow. I liked the spot I had chosen even better than I had
done before breakfast, and I was soon hard at work.

I had sketched in my picture, and was beginning to paint, when I became
conscious of the sound of voices just over my head, and I soon became
equally conscious that they were talking about me.