Islands -- Fiction; Love stories; New England -- Fiction; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
And be it said that if all the landowners of Rockhaven had obtained even
what they valued their holdings at, they would have sold cheerfully, for
out of the eighty odd square miles of the island, not one quarter was of
soil, and much of that so sandy that only bayberry bushes and wild
roses grew on it, or else thickets of stunted spruce. The only means of
livelihood to most was the sea, and if nature had not endowed the island
with a capacious land-locked harbor and a few acres of productive soil
beyond it, and shut in by wall-like shores, Rockhaven would have been
left to the sea-gulls that infested its cliffs, or the fish-hawks that
found its harbor good fishing ground.
"What'd ye s'pose he's goin' ter do with it, now he's got it?" put in
Cap'n Doty, when Jess had finished his recital, and having in mind his
stock of rusty mackerel. "Will he come down here 'n' go ter quarryin'?"
"Mebbe he wants it fer ballast fer a new boat," interposed young Dave
Moore. "Or fer buildin' a house," put in Dave's brother, Sam. "Cheer up,
uncle, we may sell him the _Nancy Jane_ yit. He'll hev ter hire or buy
suthin' ter carry stun 'way from the island. He can't make a raft on't."
"An' if he does," asserted Cap'n Moore, addressing Cap'n Doty, who sat
opposite him on a cracker barrel, "ye'd git a chance to work off them
mackerel."
"I dunno what he's goin' ter do with it," asserted Jess, when a pause
came, "nor care, so long's I git t'other thousand as is comin' when
deeds is passed. I ain't sure I'll git that, either," he added
candidly, "but if I don't the quarry's still mine 'n' a cool thousand o'
that freak's good money's gone out o' circulation anyhow, which is some
comfort."
Then came a lull in conversation, and in place the popping of more corks
and "Here's to yer good luck, Jess," as bottles were elevated and
pointed downward.
"Come, Jess," said Dave Moore, when this second libation had been
indulged in, and who was in a mood for hearing yarns, "tell 'em 'bout
old Bill Atlas."
Now this tale, antedating the day and generation of most of Jess
Hutton's auditors, was nevertheless a favorite with him and one he
always enjoyed telling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account