70 Watching the Brant Grow Big. 



nicely browned on both sides when the 

 fins curl up in a crisp. Five or six flappy 

 flounders are pulled up on deck, and away 

 we go again to our safe anchorage. Who 

 would ever go hungry on the Great South 

 Bay ? There, within a radius of half a 

 mile, we have helped ourselves abundantly 

 to brant, razor clams, quahogs, soft clams, 

 eels and flounders, and have had such fun 

 in doing it that we want the man who is 

 prepared for suicide to come down here 

 for one day's sport before he decides that 

 life is really too much of a bother. Our 

 hands are cold, our clothes are wet, espe- 

 cially at vital points. Our noses and ears 

 would do yeoman service in a summer 

 refrigerator. But the cabin stove has a 

 red hot lid, and the change to dry warm 

 woollen clothing with a cup of hot coffee 

 will pay for a month of discomfort. I am 

 sorry for the man who never stops to think 

 how well off he is with his every-day 

 clothes on. 



