Out from my clam beds--some way out--is a reef of rocks. It is grim enough in any weather: at low water just showing its rough head, dark brown, barnacled, bearded with seaweed; at high tide, in calm weather, nothing but a wide expanse of placid water. For which reason, the government, in its wisdom, and to protect the lives of yachtsmen, who ever walk in darkness--the fishermen know it from the beginning of time--the government had set, upon the most outward rock a spindle. It was awkward enough, that spindle, with its sprawling arms, like a telegraph pole--but it served its purpose well in ordinary weather I have no doubt. But now,--this was no ordinary weather, as any might see,--it seemed like to go down, even as my solitary stalk of corn; to be torn from its hold in the rock, or the shaft twisted and bent and broken, till it served no longer. “Look, Eve,” I shouted. For the gale tore my words out of my mouth. “The spindle--it will go down at high tide--or before. See, it is bent, already.” For, as I spoke, a great sea smashed down upon the rock, sending its spray high; and when the wind had blown the bits of broken water far to leeward, leaving the rock in a smother of foam, I saw the spindle, and it stood straight no longer. And I watched for the fellow of the sea that had come. But Eve held her peace. And we two watched the rock, with its leaning spindle, and ever it leaned the more, but it kept fast hold on the rock, though it was nearly buried in the foam. And ever the tide came higher, until it was buried in every sea that came. So it was come to dinner time; and I felt a great hunger that gnawed within me. For a clammer must eat, even as other men. “Eve,” I said, “it is my dinner time, and I am hungry.” “Oh, Adam,” she cried, “can you think about eating--with this to see? I thought better of you.” “Think none the worse of me,” I answered, “that when I am hungry I would eat. For I am not one of your theorists who believe that when a man is hungry he should go without. But I believe that hunger is a sign from Heaven. God gave man hunger that he might know when to eat; and thirst, that he might know when to drink. And so I do. I have never found myself the worse for it, but the better. Hunger breeds an evil temper, as you may see. Mark how much pleasanter I am when I have dined.” And she laughed at me. “And the spindle, Adam,” she said. “It may go down, and you at dinner. And this storm--surely, it is worth staying for.”