The Sort of Life We Lead 33 



aboard the Nelly for home. The sail home against 

 a brisk, steady northwest breeze was one of the 

 most delightful we have had this summer, the nose 

 of the boat plowing the water half the way back, 

 and the main-sail wet half up the mast. As is so 

 often the way on the Great South Bay, the wind 

 died out at sundown, and as we carried our beach 

 traps up to the house the whole west was aflame, 

 the air cooler, but the wind gone. The last of the 

 hotel and boarding-house people seem to be going, 

 so that we shall soon have the bay to ourselves. 

 One storm in early September seems to scare the 

 whole crowd off. Had another fire after dinner, 

 and read the last instalment of Howells' novel in 

 Harper's. 



Friday. Opened a lot of oysters before break- 

 fast and dug the other post-holes before lunch, 

 making a long morning's work, as I have no digging 

 apparatus fit for the job. Let the chickens out for 

 a tramp over the garden, keeping the children to 

 see that they did not get into the tomato vines. 

 The children picked all the tomatoes for the yearly 

 canning more than three bushels. Wrote after 

 lunch until three o'clock, and started out with the 

 whole family to go down along the shore about a 

 mile from here, where there are some branches of 



