hintin' as to how he
looks when he's done?"

"Why--why, DONE, of course."

"Yes, of course. How stupid of me! He is done when he looks done, and
when he looks done he is done. Any child could follow those directions.
HOW is he done--brown?"

"No. Brown! the idea! Red, of course. He's green when you put him in
the kittle, and when you take him out, he's red. That's one way you can
tell."

"Yes, that will help some. All right, I'll boil him till he's red, you
needn't worry about that."

"Oh, I sha'n't worry. So long. I'll be back about six or so. Put him in
when the water's good and hot, and you'll come out all right."

"Thank you. I hope HE will, but I have my doubts. Where is he?"

"Who? the lobster? There's dozens down in the car by the wharf. Lift the
cover and fish one out with the dip net. Pick out the biggest one you
can find, 'cause I'm likely to be hungry when I get back, and your
appetite ain't a hummin' bird's. There! I've got to go if I want to get
anything done afore-- . . . Humph! never mind. So long."

He hurried away, as if conscious that he had said more than he intended.
At the corner of the house he turned to call:

"I say! Brown! be kind of careful when you dip him out. None of 'em are
plugged."

"What?"

"I say none of them lobsters' claws are plugged. I didn't have time to
plug the last lot I got from my pots, so you want to handle 'em careful
like, else they'll nip you. Tote the one you pick out up to the house in
the dip-net; then you'll be all right."

Evidently considering this warning sufficient to prevent any possible
trouble, he departed. John Brown seated himself in the armchair by the
door and gazed at the sea. He gazed and thought until he could bear to
think no longer; then he rose and entered the kitchen, where he kindled
a fire in the range and filled a kettle with water. Having thus made
ready the sacrificial altar, he took the long-handled dip-net from its
nail and descended the bluff to the wharf.

The lobster car, a good-sized affair of laths with a hinged cover
closing the opening in its upper surface, was floating under the wharf,
to which it was attached by a rope. Brown knelt on the string-piece
and peered down at it. It floated deep in the water, the tide rippling
strongly through it, between the laths. The cover was fastened with a
wooden button.

The substitute assistant, after a deal of futile and exasperating poking
with the handle of the net, managed to