ne short." And she
perched herself on the quarter, baited her hook carefully, and threw it
over, with a clam-shell to call attention. I went to the rail at the
side, and we were presently much encouraged by pulling up two small
cunners, and felt that our prospects for dinner were excellent. Then I
unhappily caught so large a sculpin that it was like pulling up an open
umbrella, and after I had thrown him into the hold to keep company with
the flounder, our usual good luck seemed to desert us. It was one of the
days when, in spite of twitching the line and using all the tricks we
could think of, the cunners would either eat our bait or keep away
altogether. Kate at last said we must starve unless we could catch the
big flounder, and asked me to drop my hook down the hatchway; but it
seemed almost too bad to destroy his innocent happiness. Just then we
heard the noise of oars, and to our delight saw Cap'n Sands in his dory
just beyond the next wharf. "Any luck?" said he. "S'pose ye don't care
anything about going out this morning?"

"We are not amusing ourselves; we are trying to catch some fish for
dinner," said Kate. "Could you wait out by the red buoy while we get a
few more, and then should you be back by noon, or are you going for a
longer voyage, Captain Sands?"

"I was going out to Black Rock for cunners myself," said the cap'n. "I
should be pleased to take ye, if ye'd like to go." So we wound up our
lines, and took our basket and clams and went round to meet the boat. I
felt like rowing, and took the oars while Kate was mending her sinker
and the cap'n was busy with a snarled line.

"It's pretty hot," said he, presently, "but I see a breeze coming in,
and the clouds seem to be thickening; I guess we shall have it cooler
'long towards noon. It looked last night as if we were going to have
foul weather, but the scud seemed to blow off, and it was as pretty a
morning as ever I see. 'A growing moon chaws up the clouds,' my
gran'ther used to say. He was as knowing about the weather as anybody I
ever come across; 'most always hit it just about right. Some folks lay
all the weather to the moon, accordin' to where she quarters, and when
she's in perigee we're going to have this kind of weather, and when
she's in apogee she's got to do so and so for sartain; but gran'ther he
used to laugh at all them things. He said it never made no kind of
difference, and he went by the looks of the clouds and the feel of the
air, and