Below is an essay on "hemmingway" from Anti Essays, your source for research papers, essays, and term paper examples.
On this slow day, the fish did not bite. The tips of the leaves turned red in the afternoon light. A zephyr stirred the top of the water, tricking Nick into thinking fish swam underneath. He could smell his campfire dwindling to wet ash beside him. Beyond the river, he could only see untouched fields.
“You going to just sit there all day or are you going to catch a fish?”
Nick turned around to see a stranger standing behind him. He had a leathery face from days spent working in the sun and thin, chapped lips. He wore pants too short for his thick legs and a coat too tight with patches on the elbows. He rubbed the fingers of his left hand over the bruised knuckles on his right.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.
“You didn’t,” Nick Adams said.
“Mind if I sit with you?”
The big man settled himself on a small rock to Nick’s right. “I never liked fishing,” the man said. “I used to come to the river to skip stones. I can make a rock skip five times, if I can find the right one. You know how to skip rocks?”
“No,” said Nick.
“What’s your name?”
“Adams. Nick Adams.”
“Do you want to learn how to skip a rock?”
The big man stood up and searched around the bank. “You just need a smooth, flat stone,” he said. “Here.”
Nick set down his fishing rod* and found one too.
“Hold it between your index finger and your thumb,” said the stranger. “You want to throw it light and fast.” He let it fly across the water, and they counted the skips.
“Did you see that? Four! That’s how it’s done!”
Nick threw his, and it sunk to the bottom of the river. He felt disappointed.
The stranger had gathered some more stones, and they tried again.
“My father taught me how to skip a rock,” said the man. “He died a year ago, almost to the day. He was a rotten old man, that dirty bastard. The only thing he ever did for me was teach me how to skip these damn rocks. He left me with nothing. Now all I have left are these...