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Jed rubbed his chin. "The which field?" he drawled. "The clam field. The place where Mrs. Smalley's fish man unplants the clams she makes the chowder of. He does it with a sort of hoe thing and puts them in a pail. He was doing it yesterday; I saw him." Jed's eyes twinkled at the word "unplants," but another thought occurred to him.
If it should be true if we should find Jacky's island if we should see the big critter alive, or his wife if we could slip a noose under his legs and throw him down or carry along the great net and trap him while he war down on the beach arter his clams, and manage to tie him and carry him off in my ship! He'd kick, I know.
And the power of their light was increased by those glimmers unique to medusas, starfish, common jellyfish, angel-wing clams, and other phosphorescent zoophytes, which were saturated with grease from organic matter decomposed by the sea, and perhaps with mucus secreted by fish.
After opening them as oysters, wash them in their own liquor and drain then; make a batter of an egg, flour and pepper; dip them in this, and fry them in butter. To Stew Clams. Strain the liquor and stew them in it for about twenty minutes; make a thickening of flour, water and pepper; stir this in and let it boil up; have some bread toasted and buttered in a deep dish, and pour the clams over.
When they come home they will be tired and hungry and ready for a grand supper. Do thou and Zeb run down to the bay and bring back a mess of clams. We 'll have the table all spread and a bright fire burning to welcome them!" Dan agreed to this plan and went out at once to call Zeb. He found him by the straw-stack with an egg in each hand.
Harrigan, sending a bitter side glance at McTee, rose to bring some more wood, for it was imperative that they should keep the fire burning always. "I'm so glad," said Kate, "that we have both the eggs and the clams to rely on. At least they will keep us from starving in this terrible place." "H'm. I'm not so sure about the eggs."
"Clams, oysters and fish, and in this order," he said to himself, "apparently constitute the means of support for some of these people." And yet the country was not depopulated, although very much of the arable land was abandoned for agricultural purposes. A farm of a hundred acres might have ten acres under cultivation, this being as much as the farmer could "keep up," as was commonly stated.
"I like clams better than cookies," remarked Margy. "I mean I like to eat cookies, but I like to dig clams." "You can't dig cookies," said Mun Bun. "You could dig one if you dropped yours in the sand," returned his sister. "Yes, you could do that," agreed the little boy. "But it would be all sand, and it wouldn't be good to eat." "I don't guess it would. We'll just dig clams.
Jason Vandervelde's fervent praises hadn't done justice to this bit of untouched Eden tucked away in a bend of the Maine coast. It gave him what his heart craved beauty, fragrance, stillness. A few weather-beaten old men, digging clams, dragging lobster-pots, or handling a boat. A few quiet women, busy with household affairs. No one to have to talk to. No one to ask him questions.
He gets 'em off fast and chucks them out the bus window. He's blistered some but not serious, and he clams up but good when the ambulance doc puts salve on him. He won't say a word about what happened or how. They hadda call a ambulance because he couldn't go huntin' a doc with no pants on." "But he's not burned badly?" asked Brink. "No. Blisters, yes. Scared, yes. And mad as hell.
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