30 LIBERTY AND A LIVING. 



so great a change had taken place. Three 

 weeks ago the beach was alive with people, the 

 bay was full of boats, sailing back and forth, 

 the little bathing station on the beach had 

 plenty to do, there were dozens of people in 

 the surf and scores walking along the sands. 

 To-day we were one of half-a-dozen sails to be 

 found as far as the eye could reach. On the 

 beach there was complete silence, except for 

 the boom of the surf and the pipe of an occa- 

 sional quail. Tradition says that the quail 

 along this narrow line of sand, which stretches 

 from Fire Island to Quogue, came ashore from 

 an English vessel wrecked off Moriches many 

 years ago. They were intended for some rich 

 man's estate, but escaped here and have done 

 well. The season is so nearly through, so far 

 as bathing is concerned, that we gathered up 

 our bathing suits, camp-chairs, and beach- 

 shades, and put them aboard the Nelly for 

 home. The sail home against a brisk, steady 

 northwest breeze was one of the most delightful 

 we have had this summer, the nose of the boat 

 plowing the water half the way back, and the 

 main-sheet wet half up the mast. As is so 

 often the way on the Great South Bay, the 

 wind died out at sundown, and as we carried 

 our beach traps up to the house the whole west 

 was aflame, the air cooler, but the wind gone. 

 The last of the hotel and boarding-house people 

 seem to be going, so that we shall soon have 



