istle, but Annie caught the
meaning of it quicker than they did.

"Dick," she said, "are we to fish to-day?"

"May be,-but-that-depends-on-Mr.-Morris."

Every word slowly and carefully uttered, a good deal like a man counts
over doubtful money, looking sharp for a counterfeit.

"Look here, Dick!" suddenly exclaimed Dab Kinzer, "I give it up. You can
do it. But don't try to keep it up all day. Kill you, sure as anything,
if you do."

"Did I say 'em all right, Cap'n Dab?" anxiously inquired Dick, with a
happy look on his black, merry face.

"Every word," said Dab. "Well for you they were all short. Keep on
practicing."

"I'll jest do dat, shuah!"

Practicing? Yes, that was it, and Dick himself joined heartily in the
peal of laughter with which the success of his first attempt at "white
folk's English" was received by the party. Dab explained that as soon as
Dick found he was really to go to the academy he determined to teach his
tongue new habits, and the whole company heartily approved, even while
they joined Dab in advising him not to try too much at a time.

Plenty of talk and fun all around as the "Swallow" skimmed onward, and
the long, low outlines of the narrow sand-island were rapidly becoming
more distinct.

"Is that a light-house?" asked Annie of Dab.

"Yes, and there's a wrecking station close by."

"Men there all the while? Are there many wrecks on this coast?"

"Ever so many, and there used to be more of them. It was a bad place to
run ashore, in those days. Almost as bad as Jersey."

"Why?"

"Because of the wreckers. The shore's bad enough, and the bar's a mean
place to escape on, but the wreckers used to make it worse."

And Dab launched out into a slightly exaggerated description of the
terrors of the Long Island coast in old times and new, and of the
character of the men who were formerly the first to find out if anything
or anybody had gone ashore.

"What a prize that French steamer would have been!" said Annie, "the one
you took Frank Harley from."

"No, she wouldn't. Why, she wasn't wrecked at all. She only stuck her
nose in the sand and lay still till the tugs pulled her off. That isn't
a wreck. A wreck is where the ship is knocked to pieces and people are
drowned, and all that sort of thing. Then the wreckers have a notion
that everything that comes ashore belongs to them. Why, I've heard even
some of our old fishermen--best kind of men, too--talk of how government
has robbed '