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 great ol' monstrous codfish take an' pull ye overboard now, Ga'th."

They settled themselves silently to the business of fishing. The mackerel showed no signs of activity, and the occupation took on its most peaceful form. Across the blue field of the sky small puffs of cloud followed each other endlessly, "like sheep jumping over a wall," thought Joan drowsily, "but I mustn't begin counting them, or I shall go to sleep." The water lapped rhythmically against the boat, a little slumbrous accompaniment wholly in tune with the rest of the dreaming world. Far up—wheeling flecks of light against the clouds—the gulls hovered and sailed; their cries dropped down faintly like the echo of a wild wind. Up the coast Hy Brasail lifted a purple outline; through some freak of atmosphere the islet seemed to be floating above the water.

"'Tis cur'ous," 'Bijah said, when Joan remarked upon it. "An' look at the end o' the p'int, whar it makes out yonder; you'd say 't was curled up like. All them little sticks that looks like fishnet stakes ain't really thar at all."

"And see how queer that schooner is out there," Garth said. "All wobbly; and you'd