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"For with regards t' female grass, major, my exper'ence has all'as made me think o' that man in Scriptur' 't was told to do somethin'. 'No, by clam! says he, 'I ain't a-goin' to, and hadn't more 'n got the words outer his mouth afore somehow he found himself a-shutin' straight outer the front door to go to executin' of it.
I saw my clam fisher go white and put his hands over his head, the while his dam ran screaming toward the tent Jimmy L'Olonnois at her heels, sword in hand, and warning her not to get a gun, else her life's blood would dye the strand. Here, now, was a pretty pickle for a sworn servant of the law to aid in making!
"Ye'd orter put it on yer plackards then! D'ye s'pose I'd come to yer show ef I'd known that? Come along, Coffin! I'm goin' ter hang out outside, by clam! "No singing, either, sir, on the part of the audience. This company is from Boston, sir." "Is she?" said Captain Pharo, with blighting sarcasm, new-lighting his pipe preparatory to leaving the hall; "I thought she was from Jaffy!"
She's a pretty good little girl, generally speaking," drawing the child close and smiling down upon her, "but sometimes she is heedless and forgets. Yesterday she forgot, didn't you, dear?" Barbara shook her head. "I didn't forget," she said. "I mean I only forgot a little. Petunia forgot almost EVERYTHING. I forgot and went as far as the bridge, but she forgot all the way to the clam field."
There was a knock at the door, and the physical therapist put his head in. "Sorry to interrupt, but the clam is done. I'll give him a rubdown, Doc, and you can have him back." "Excellent. Would you come up to my office, Bart, as soon as you've had your mauling?" "Sure. I'll be right up." Yoritomo left, and the P.T. man opened the steam box. "Feel O.K., Bart?"
From him we derived a knowledge of the values and attractions of the succulent clam, and he didn't cook a clam so that it tasted like O'Somebody's Heels of New Rubber either. From the Indian we got the original idea of the shore dinner and the barbecue, the planked shad and the hoecake. By following in his footsteps we learned about succotash and hominy.
How in the name of a soft-shell clam " "It's that man!" cried Larry. "I knew he had a beard on when we pulled him ashore!" "A beard on?" murmured Bailey, in questioning tones. "Yes," went on Larry. "When you were outside, getting some wood, just before you ran down the beach when the life savers came, I was in here.
"Satisfied with life?" "Seems to be." "Hum! No one calls HIM a what is it quahaug?" "No, I'm the only human clam in this neighborhood." He did not say any more, nor did I. My fit of the blues was on again and his silence on the subject in which I was interested, my work and my future, troubled me and made me more despondent.
She took them from his outstretched hand and buried her face in them, whilst he, usually so nimble of tongue and ready of word, was striving to overcome this alarming confusion and embarrassment that rendered him about as quick of wit as a soft-shelled clam. In fact, he felt like a jelly fish save that he was twice as incompetent. "You see," he began lamely, "I didn't quite know what to do.
And you swum three hours on an empty stomach?" "Not altogether. Part of it on my back. But, if you'll excuse familiarity on short acquaintance, those things you're cooking smell good to me." "Them's clam fritters, and, if YOU'LL excuse my sayin' so that shouldn't, they ARE good. Set down and fill up." The visitor ate nine of the fritters, a slice of dried-apple pie, and drank two cups of coffee.
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