Certainly the sun was very hot that day. The fishers on the island found
it so, notwithstanding that they had sought out every one for himself
the shadiest, freshest nook that could be found. Nothing was fresh; and
if the trees did hinder the sunshine from falling on some parts of the
ground, they kept off none of it from the water; and the glare from that
was said to be unendurable. Even where there was not much glare strictly
speaking; people were not particular in their speech that day. At last
they voted that holding lines in the water was of no use; fish could not
be expected to leave their cool depths below to seek the sunny regions
near the surface of the water; "they would be fools if they did," one of
the ladies remarked. Fish never were supposed to be very wise creatures,
Mr. Sandford informed her; but nevertheless, it was resolved not to
reckon upon their want of wisdom at this time, but to put up and go back
to shore, and try what cold chicken would do. So just about the hour
when the sun's work for the day verges towards the hottest, the little
boat was seen again stealing over the sunny surface of the lake, back to
where the tablecloth lay spread for the tired people.

A little while before it reached that place, Dr. Sandford arrived upon
the scene. He locked a little warm in the face; but his white shooting
coat did not seem less affected by the state of the weather than the
doctor's temper. Mrs. Gary and Mrs. Fish he found sunk in somnolency at
the foot of the tree where they had been talking. The young ladies were
sitting by the emptied hampers, deep in confab. The boys and Fido, over
against the outspread feast, were arranging fishing tackle, and watching
the return of the boat; with eyes of anticipation. To them came the
doctor.

"Where is your sister, Ransom?"