1 14 We Go A-Fishing 



a plentiful supply of "bunkers," which we 

 could have as bait. These "bunkers" are the 

 "bony-fish," or the menhaden of the oil fac- 

 tories; when our bay fishermen take them in 

 their nets, they are not thrown back, but are 

 used as manure. As the Cap'n says, every 

 "bunker" represents a good-sized potato to 

 him. For a few cents we get a bucketful of 

 them for bait. It is six o'clock by the time 

 we get back to the house, to find the breakfast 

 steaming on the table. Half an hour later we 

 are off to the shore again, and before seven 

 o'clock the Nelly is bowling along westward at 

 the rate of five miles an hour. The village is 

 still, to all intents and purposes, asleep, al- 

 though the sun has begun to melt the mists, 

 and the air has lost the keen sharpness of an 

 hour before. As we glide along, all to the 

 south of us, over towards the ocean, is one 

 flood of golden light, with the low ridge of the 

 sand hills standing out in shadow ; above these 

 lines of sand dunes the morning sky is re- 

 splendent, and between us and the beach the 

 bay glitters with dancing sunbeams. On the 

 other side we have the Long Island shore, with 



