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Updated: June 9, 2025
"What will you do, then?" inquired Jim, pointedly. "Just what I please, and not a thing besides," replied Percy, with equal directness. The others exchanged looks, but Jim said no more. The greater part of the afternoon was devoted to setting the lobster-traps.
Percy found everything new and strange the stilted wharves on the ledges, heaped with lobster-traps and festooned with buoys of all shapes and colors; the fish-pier with its open shed, sheltering the dark, discolored hogsheads rounded up with salted fish; the men in oilskin "petticoats," busy with splitting-knives on hake and cod and pollock and haddock, brought in by the noisy power-boats; the lighthouse-keepers from Matinicus Rock, five miles south, in military caps, oilskins, and red rubber boots, towing a dory to be dumped full of slimy hake heads for lobster bait; the post-office and general store above the cove, and the spruce-crowned rocks beyond it.
We'll take the trawls with us, and bait 'em on the way back, so as not to lose any time; and we'll set most of those lobster-traps this afternoon." They all went over to the fish-house, and Jim swung the door wide open. Five great hogsheads inside caught Percy's eye. "What're those for?" he asked. "Holding fish.
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