nd which resembles in contour the
breastbone of a grebe or northern diver. This great curve is rimmed with
iron. But from the bend the lines slope upward, until at the stern the
boat is quite flat-bottomed and only about three feet in depth. She is
poised so that while her bow draws three feet of water her stern will
float in one or two inches; and she will come so near the shore that one
can climb over her stern nearly dryshod. In smooth water she may be
rowed about very easily and safely; but it would be impossible to carry
sail on a craft of which really only one-half of the keel is submerged:
she would capsize instantly in a very light wind. This difficulty is
cleverly met. As soon as the coble is put under sail her great rudder is
fixed; and this rudder, which is very broad, goes under water to a depth
of three feet or so. When the wind is on the beam the rudder acts
exactly like a centre-board: if it breaks, nothing can save the coble;
but so long as it holds the vessel will lie well over and sail with
amazing swiftness. Years upon years of apprenticeship are needed before
a man can manage one of these crank boats; in fact, the fishermen's
proverb says, "You must be born in a coble if you want to learn anything
about her."

The race of men who work in the cobles have good chances of becoming
skilful, for they begin very early. When the fisher-boy has passed the
merest infancy his steps tend to the water-side as naturally as though
he were a young sea-bird. He carries the water-bottles down to the boats
in the afternoon, and sees his father and the other men hauling off out
of the shallow cove. The evening comes down, and he watches the race
northward until the last brown sail has passed around the point. In the
morning he is ready for the boats as they come home, and he can
distinguish each craft exactly, although an outsider would be able to
see not a whit of difference. He sees the fish carted, and then goes
home with the stolid heavy-footed men. All the morning, while the
fishermen are sleeping, the fisher-lad is busy helping the women to bait
lines or spread nets, according to the season. He goes in an amateur way
to school, but he is the wildest and most gipsy-like of scholars. His
thoughts have suffered a sea change, and he takes badly to books and
slates. A studious fisherman is hardly to be found, and it is only
within the last twenty years that the accomplishment of reading has
become known in the smaller