412 



HISTORY OF COHASSET. 



saved from the mackerel, and fries them while the fire 

 builder is eating his two flippers with his mug of tea. 

 Each has his own yellow earthenware mug, his knife, 

 spoon, and fork. 



When the skipper has cooked his spawn he shouts, 

 " Clear fire ! " Perhaps two fishermen jump at once for the 

 gangway, one with potatoes and the other with a mackerel. 

 The man who first places his uncooked food upon a chest 

 at the foot of the stairs and shouts "chested " has his turn 

 at the fire. These two struggle to get down first, but the 

 potatoes and mackerel are badly mashed or even hurled 

 upon the floor, and the men themselves perhaps are 

 bruised a good deal before one may shout "chested"! 

 The same frying pan does for all. The same rough fare 

 is endured by all. The fishing business is no soft sine- 

 cure; it is rough and tough, and the men are earning what 

 they get. 



After several weeks of good and bad luck the vessel 

 works along towards the north and east to the neighbor- 

 hood of Block Island towards home. If the catch has 

 amounted to one hundred and fifty or two hundred 

 barrels of fish and the biting seems poor, and a good 

 strong southwest wind springs up urging the vessel home- 

 ward, the skipper orders the men to stop the fishing. 

 "Hoist the jib!" "Set the colors!" "Give her the 

 whole of the mainsheet, boys!" "Away with her about 

 northeast and we '11 see how nigh we can hit Gay Head ! " 



We are off for home, where families and friends await 

 us and where the owners of the vessel are anxious to 

 know whether we have brought back enough fish to pay 

 for their investment. A couple of days' sailing gets us 

 into Massachusetts Bay, and perhaps we come creeping 

 back into old Cohasset Harbor before daylight some June 

 morning. With the return of the fishing vessels from 

 this first trip there is bound up the good fortune of many 

 Cohasset small boys. 



