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Updated: June 21, 2025
With an eye, perhaps, to his obvious lack of cheerfulness, his namesake and host suggested various diversions, fishing for congers and rock-fish, a voyage round the island, a trip across to Herm, a day among the rabbits on. Brecqhou. But he wanted none of them. His life was flapping on a broken wing and all he wanted was to be left alone.
I've been thinking about my class of boys in the Sunday-school at Congers, and how glad I'll be to get back to them again; I've a lot I want to tell them. It's restful just to think of that little church, and this Sunday afternoon I've been thinking about it a good deal." George was lying in the tent, and Hubbard and I joined him and continued our conversation there.
I caught congers before you were short-coated, my laddie, but I'm not going catching them now." "They are a bit rampageous when they're grown up," he admitted. "We got one the other day about as thick round as one's leg, and it barked like a dog and tried to bite." "And does he make you go congering, my dear?" she asked Margaret. "Make?" scoffed Graeme. "Make, forsooth? How little you know!
Same for lunch. Much talk of grub and restaurants, and our home going, much of George's room in New York, of good days in Congers. I want to go to Michigan and Canada and to Wurtsboro'. Oh, to see my sweetheart and be home again! Sunday, October 11th. Beautiful, clear day, cold. Off day for grub. George shot three times at ducks and I fished at rapids. No fish no ducks.
After wee had doubled it in March following wee directed our course for the Iland of Santa Helena, and arriued there the third day of Aprill, where we staied to our great comfort nineteene dayes: in which meane space some one man of vs tooke thirtie goodly Congers in one day, and other rockie fishe and some Bonitos.
How we will appreciate home and grub when we get out. I crawl into blankets while the boys smoke their evening pipe. Then I think of M. and our home at Congers, and plan how she and I will go to Canada or Michigan or somewhere, for a two week's vacation when I get home. I wonder when that will be. Monday, .August 31st. Ice on cups this morning. Thermometer out of order. Lat. 53 degrees 57 minutes.
"I should like the walk well enough with you, Nelly, but a number of congers and dog-fish got foul of our nets and made some ugly holes in them, which will take us all day to mend; it is a wonder they did not do more mischief. So, as I always put business before pleasure, you see, Nelly, I must not go, however much I might wish it."
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