iscussion there, although the
atmosphere of the shop is not entirely religious, as you may see by some
of the papers lying about, and the cuts pasted up on the walls. Chief is
a picture representing a scene in the life of the prophet Jonah. Jonah
and the seamen are drawing lots to see who shall be cast over. Jonah has
just drawn the ace of spades.

There are various other pictures on the walls,--prints of famous yachts,
charts, advertisements of regattas, sailing rules of yacht-clubs.
Nowhere is the science of boat-building and boat-sailing studied with
greater closeness than in that shop. Many a successful racer has
been built there. There are models of boats pinned up against the
wall,--models which to the common eye hardly vary at all, but to a
trained perception differ widely. There are oars lying about the shop,
oil-skin suits, a compass, charts, in round tin cases, boat hardware,
and coils of new rope.

The little pier has its periods of activity and life, like the great
world outside. At three or four o'clock, in the gray dawn, fishermen
appear, singly, or two by two; there is often then a failure of wind,
and they have to get out to sea by heavy rowing or by the drift of the
tide. Then there is silence for some hours, and when the world awakes
the cove is nearly deserted. At seven o'clock begins the life of the
shop. Amateur fishermen appear,--boarders from New York or visiting sons
from Brockton. Later still, little parties come down,--a knot of
young fellows and laughing girls with bright-colored wraps, bound on a
sailing-party to Katameset, with a matron, and with some well-salted
man to steer the boat, perhaps in slippers and a dressing-gown. They
go singing out to sea. Then come a party of bathers,--ladies and little
children, with towels and blue suits, and all the paraphernalia of pails
and wooden shovels. Then will come perhaps a couple of girls, to sketch.
They will encamp anywhere upon the shore, call into their service some
small amphibious creature to tip a skiff up on its side to make an
effective scene, and proceed with the wonders of their art. Soon the
bathers return. They have been only a little way down the narrows, and
come back to dinner at one. The fishermen come in from three to four,
unless they happen to be becalmed; there is a bustle then of getting out
ice; of slitting and weighing and packing fish, and loading them into
wagons to be carted to the railway. Then there is a lull until th