NANTUCKET IN APRIL 73 



dead since 1907. Each afternoon he climbed to 

 the crow's nest with horn under his arm to watch 

 for the daily incoming steamer. He could sight 

 it about an hour before it would dock and as soon 

 as he did the horn blew grandly and his voice 

 rang out over the town in a rhyme, doubtless of 

 his own composing. 



Hark, hark, hear Billy Clark, 



He's tooting from the tower. 

 He sees the boat, she is afloat. 



She'll be here in an hour. 



And so she would, and before she touched the 

 dock Billy deftly caught a bundle of Boston 

 papers and racing uptown sold them all before 

 the passengers were off the boat, unless they 

 moved quickly. But these were but a few of 

 Billy's multitudinous activities. He cried auc- 

 tions and sales, entertainments of all sorts and if 

 for any reason a public affair must be suddenly 

 postponed the quickest way to get the news about 

 was to slip a half dollar to Billy who forthwith 

 cried the matter with amazing celerity and ve- 

 hemence from all the street corners, tooting his 

 horn between whiles to get the attention of all. 

 Weekly or oftener Billy used to cry meat auc- 

 tions in the lower square, which have always 



