tent, using the five oars to
support the canvas, we got out our lines, and went down the rocks
seaward to fish. It was early for cunners, but we were lucky enough to
catch as nice a mess as ever you saw. A cod for the chowder was not so
easily secured. At last Binny Wallace hauled in a plump little fellow
crusted all over with flaky silver.

To skin the fish, build our fireplace, and cook the chowder kept us
busy the next two hours. The fresh air and the exercise had given us the
appetites of wolves, and we were about famished by the time the savory
mixture was ready for our clamshell saucers.

I shall not insult the rising generation on the seaboard by telling them
how delectable is a chowder compounded and eaten in this Robinson Crusoe
fashion. As for the boys who live inland, and know naught of such marine
feasts, my heart is full of pity for them. What wasted lives! Not to
know the delights of a clam-bake, not to love chowder, to be ignorant of
lob-scouse!

How happy we were, we four, sitting crosslegged in the crisp salt grass,
with the invigorating sea-breeze blowing gratefully through our hair!
What a joyous thing was life, and how far off seemed death--death, that
lurks in all pleasant places, and was so near!

The banquet finished, Phil Adams drew from his pocket a handful of
sweet-fern cigars; but as none of the party could indulge without
imminent risk of becoming sick, we all, on one pretext or another,
declined, and Phil smoked by himself.

The wind had freshened by this, and we found it comfortable to put
on the jackets which had been thrown aside in the heat of the day.
We strolled along the beach and gathered large quantities of the
fairy-woven Iceland moss, which, at certain seasons, is washed to these
shores; then we played at ducks and drakes, and then, the sun being
sufficiently low, we went in bathing.

Before our bath was ended a slight change had come over the sky and sea;
fleecy-white clouds scudded here and there, and a muffled moan from the
breakers caught our ears from time to time. While we were dressing, a
few hurried drops of rain came lisping down, and we adjourned to the
tent to await the passing of the squall.

"We're all right, anyhow," said Phil Adams. "It won't be much of a blow,
and we'll be as snug as a bug in a rug, here in the tent, particularly
if we have that lemonade which some of you fellows were going to make."

By an oversight, the lemons had been left in the boat.