s calmly as in early spring
at home he forced his plough through the stubble.

There was, too, in those early days of the fisheries, a certain
patriarchal relation maintained between owner and crew that finds no
parallel in modern times. The first step upward of the fisherman was to
the quarter-deck. As captain, he had a larger responsibility, and received
a somewhat larger share of the catch, than any of his crew. Then, if
thrifty, or if possessed of a shipyard at home, such as I have described,
he soon became an owner. In time, perhaps, he would add one or two
schooners to his fleet, and then stay ashore as owner and outfitter,
sending out his boats on shares. Fishermen who had attained to this
dignity, built those fine, old, great houses, which we see on the
water-front in some parts of New England--square, simple, shingled to the
ground, a deck perched on the ridge-pole of the hipped roof, the frame
built of oak shaped like a ship's timbers, with axe and adze. The lawns
before the houses sloped down to the water where, in the days of the old
prosperity, the owner's schooner might be seen, resting lightly at anchor,
or tied up to one of the long, frail wharves, discharging cargo--wharves
black and rotting now, and long unused to the sailor's cheery cry. There,
too, would be the flakes for drying fish, the houses on the wharves for
storing supplies, and the packed product, and the little store in which
the outfitter kept the simple stock of necessaries from which all who
shipped on his fleet were welcome to draw for themselves and their
families, until their "ship came in." To such a fishing port would flock
the men from farm and forest, as the season for mackerel drew nigh. The
first order at the store would include a pair of buck (red leather) or
rubber boots, ten or fifteen pounds of tobacco, clay pipe, sou'-westers, a
jack-knife, and oil-clothes. If the sailor was single, the account would
stop there, until his schooner came back to port. If he had a family, a
long list of groceries, pork and beans, molasses, coffee, flour, and
coarse cloth, would be bought on credit, for the folks at home. It came
about naturally that these folks preferred to be near the store at which
the family had credit, and so the sailors would, in time, buy little plots
of land in the neighborhood, and build thereon their snug shingled
cottages. So sprung up the fishing villages of New England.

The boys who grew up in these villages were a