uina walls and evergreen foliage and traditions of old-world
antiquity occupies a position which is unique in the United States.

CATCHING TERRAPIN

BY ALFRED KAPPES

In the shoal waters along the coast south of Cape Henlopen, terrapin are
caught in various ways. Dredges dragged along in the wake of a sailing
vessel pick them up. Nets stretched across some narrow arm of river or
bay entangle the feet of any stray terrapin in their meshes; but these
require the constant attendance of the fisherman to save the catch from
drowning. In the winter, in the deeper water, the terrapin rise from
their muddy quarters on mild sunny days and crawl along the bottom. They
are then taken by tongs, their whereabouts being often betrayed by
bubbles.

The method shown in the drawing is resorted to only in the spring and in
water not over a foot or two in depth. Turtles will rise at any noise,
and usually the fisherman only claps his hands, though each hunter has
his own way of attracting the terrapin. One hunter whom I saw when I
made the drawing uttered a queer guttural noise that seemed to rise from
his boots.

[Illustration: CATCHING TERRAPIN IN THE SPRING.]

Whatever the noise, all turtles within hearing--whether terrapin or
"snapper"--will put their heads above water. Both are welcome and are
quickly sold to the market-men. The snapper slowly appears and
disappears, leaving scarcely a ripple; and the hunter cautiously
approaching usually takes him by the tail. The terrapin, on the
contrary, is quick, and will descend in an oblique direction, so that a
hand-net is needed unless he happens to come up near by. If he is near
enough the man jumps for him. The time for hunting is the still hour at
either sunrise or sunset.

"LOCOED"

(_A story of a Texan girl._)

BY EDWARD MARSHALL

John Fredding had laughingly taken his sister Martha as a partner in his
Texas saddle store. She made a good partner although she was only
thirteen years old. There were other women on the ranch (the saddle
store was only an adjunct of the big cattle-ranch itself), but the
grandmother was very old, and the servant-girl was Welsh and would not
learn to speak more English than was required in the daily routine of
housework.

Not far away was the town of Amarilla (pronounced Ah-ma-ree-ah). There
were plenty of women and girls there, but Martha knew none of them well
except the preacher's daughter, Scylla. Martha and Scylla were grea