lo ALONGSHORE 



and wonder — with a never-ending care that has 

 behind it all the forces of self-preservation. Fish, 

 which are life to a fisherman, go into the nets 

 upon the flood tide; dying fishermen go out upon 

 the ebb — so it is said. That sort of thing sounds 

 impressive to a landsman, especially if he be 

 poetical; but to a longshoreman it is crude 

 enough. For him there is a deal more than that 

 in it. There is his own life. He never can finish 

 telling all his lore. He never ceases adding to it. 



