CHAPTER III 



OYSTERS AND SMALL CLAMS 



Did you ever wake up very early some fine sum- 

 mer morning and suddenly remember that you went 

 to sleep full of a determination to rise with the sun 

 and go out shell-hunting'? And did the tempter say 

 to you, "It's really too much work; for is not an 

 hour of dreaming worth more than a whole bushel 

 of shells'?" But of course you knew better, and told 

 him so; for it was not shells alone that you were 

 seeking, but far more valuable things, such as exer- 

 cise, health, a good appetite, a cheerful disposition, 

 and best of all, the inspiration which comes with an 

 early walk by the seaside. 



I do not know where you were sleeping or where 

 you intended to take your walk. Such things do not 

 matter so much, provided you go to the shore in- 

 stead of going to sleep again. It may be that you 

 live at the mouth of the Columbia, or at Bolinas, or 

 at San Pedro, or at any of a hundred places between; 

 if you really hear the call of the sea and obey the 

 summons, you are pretty sure to be rewarded. 



My call came while I was sleeping in Pacific 

 Grove, and it led me along the old "Lighthouse 

 Road" ; it took me past rows of houses where 

 the lazy smoke was just beginning to curl from 

 kitchen chimneys, along through the silent pines with 

 their gray, mossy beards, across the railroad, through 



