June, 1919 
FOREST AND STREAM 
313 
Usually a storm tide lasts but a few 
hours, but this tide stayed for days, and 
perhaps on the theory that misery loves 
company, the little things would get to- 
gether in the crotches of the marsh eld- 
ers, in bunches as large as an old fash- 
ioned lady’s muff, perhaps fifty or more 
in a bunch, and the great majority of 
them perished from hunger and expo- 
sure or from drowning. 
As the day wore on the wind continued 
to fall, and the shooting got poorer, but 
when we reached the landing at evening, 
Andy and I had thirty-eight dippers and 
one sheldrake, while the Squire was the 
proud possessor of ten dippers and one 
black duck. As we neared the house, 
stentorian voices broke forth in song, to 
the tune of a popular chanty. 
“We started from Hazlet some forty 
miles away. 
We’ve travelled and travelled, the whole 
of the day. 
By railroad and sail boat we’ve made 
our way here. 
To the home of the Johnsons, that house 
of good cheer. 
The Squire and Cornelly, they would not 
wait o’er. 
Taking Andy with them they made for 
the shore. 
But David and Jakey are now in the 
plan. 
And will stay to the end, with the rest 
of the Clan.” 
I T was Jake and Dave our missing 
friends. Loud was the rejoicing, and 
vigorous the hand shaking for now all 
was well. Sound the loud “Timbrel,” 
and make the “welkin” ring, for the 
Clan was once more united. Soon we 
were gathered around the supper table, 
where the merry quip and jest passed 
round the happy board. Loud were the 
praises of Mrs. Johnson’s cooking, and 
great was the havoc we wrought upon 
the steaming victuals. 
After supper we repaired to the sit- 
ting room, where Peter had a great treat 
prepared for us, a great fire of Bay- 
berry wood. As the great roaring masses 
of flame went flying up the yawning 
chimney they made the room as light 
as day. The chairs were placed in the 
usual half circle before the fireplace, 
then Jake brought forth the old grid- 
iron, and placed it in the fire. When 
it was red hot, the Squire with all the 
ancient rights, and due ceremony, was 
branded and initiated in all the mys- 
teries of the Ortley Clan of duck shoot- 
ers, of which historic body, he remained 
an honored member un*^il his tragic 
death many years later. 
What happy, happy hours we spent 
before that cheerful fire and many the 
merry prank and joke was played on the 
different members of our party, all to 
be taken in good part, and to be re- 
turned with interest, when the chance 
arrived. Dear departed companions of 
my early years, I bow my old grey 
head in reverence to your memory. 
Jake and Dave reported a strenuous 
day in reaching Ortley’s. They reached 
Po:nt Pleasant all right, and there found 
the trains down the beach discontinued, 
there being twenty-eight washouts from 
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OS' 
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“Where the Biased Trail 
Crosses the Boulevard” 
