We Go A-Fishing 119 



the Chesapeake Bay; others have taken to 

 raising oranges in Florida; some of my own 

 relatives have been for years engaged in vine- 

 yards and wine-making in California; others, 

 again, have taken to small fruits; still others 

 have embarked in sheep-raising in northern 

 Connecticut, and made it pay. I myself, per- 

 haps from timidity, have settled down within 

 a few miles of New York, for I find a good 

 deal in favor of this sheet of water which con- 

 stitutes our happy hunting-ground. 



The common idea that the Long Island coast 

 is simply one long stretch of sand, varied by 

 occasional patches of green in the shape of salt 

 meadows, called marshes by city visitors, may 

 be true so far as concerns the country within 

 forty miles of New York. But beyond that 

 there is a decided change. There are actually 

 hills to be seen here and there ; not very high 

 ones, but high enough to be called hills. Most 

 persons who have noticed on the maps the 

 words "Shinnecock Hills" wonder what kind 

 of country this may be, for at the point where 

 the Shinnecock reservation is situated, Long 

 Island is but a mere neck of land, at one point 



