“‘Won’t ye step into the cabin, gentlemen, and take a glass o’ wine?’ says Cap’n Carew, very polite; and the wind came in fresher,—­something like a squall for a few minutes,—­and the men had the sails spread before you could say Jack Robi’son, and before those fellows knew what they were about the old brig was a standing out to sea, and the folks on the wharves cheered and yelled.  The Cap’n gave the officers a good scare and offered ’em a free passage to the West Indies, and finally they said they wouldn’t report at headquarters if he’d let ’em go ashore; so he told the sailors to lower their boat about two miles off Deephaven, and they pulled ashore meek enough.  Cap’n Carew had a first-rate run, and made a lot of money, so I have heard it said.  Bless ye! every shipmaster would have done just the same if he had dared, and everybody was glad when they heard about it.  Dreadful foolish piece of business that embargo was!

“Now I declare,” said Captain Sands, after he had finished this narrative, “here I’m a telling stories and you’re doin’ all the work.  You’ll pull a boat ahead of anybody, if you keep on.  Tom Kew was a-praisin’ up both of you to me the other day:  says he, ’They don’t put on no airs, but I tell ye they can pull a boat well, and swim like fish,’ says he.  There now, if you’ll give me the oars I’ll put the dory just where I want her, and you can be getting your lines ready.  I know a place here where it’s always toler’ble fishing, and I guess we’ll get something.”

Kate and I cracked our clams on the gunwale of the boat, and cut them into nice little bits for bait with a piece of the shell, and by the time the captain had thrown out the killick we were ready to begin, and found the fishing much more exciting than it had been at the wharf.

“I don’t know as I ever see ’em bite faster,” said the old sailor, presently; “guess it’s because they like the folks that’s fishing.  Well, I’m pleased.  I thought I’d let ’Bijah take some along to Denby in the cart to-morrow if I got more than I could use at home.  I didn’t calc’late on having such a lively crew aboard.  I s’pose ye wouldn’t care about going out a little further by and by to see if we can’t get two or three haddock?” And we answered that we should like nothing better.

It was growing cloudy, and was much cooler,—­the perfection of a day for fishing,—­and we sat there diligently pulling in cunners, and talking a little once in a while.  The tide was nearly out, and Black Rock looked almost large enough to be called an island.  The sea was smooth and the low waves broke lazily among the seaweed-covered ledges, while our boat swayed about on the water, lifting and falling gently as the waves went in shore.  We were not a very long way from the lighthouse, and once we could see Mrs. Kew’s big white apron as she stood in the doorway for a few minutes.  There was no noise except the plash of the low-tide waves and the occasional flutter of a fish in the bottom of the dory.  Kate and I always killed our fish at once by a rap on the head, for it certainly saved the poor creatures much discomfort, and ourselves as well, and it made it easier to take them off the hook than if they were flopping about and making us aware of our cruelty.