"I declare, child," said Mrs. Derrick, as they neared the shore, "it's real pleasant!"

"The tide's out, mother," said Faith, who had the spirit of action upon her to-day—"we can get some clams now, if we're quick."

"I don't know but you're learning to be spry, among other things," said her mother looking at her. "I thought you were as spry as you could be, before. What haven't you done to-day, child!"

Faith laughed a little, and then jumping out of the wagon and helping her mother down, was certainly 'spry' in getting ready for the clam-digging. Her white dress had been changed for a common one and that was carefully pinned up, and a great kitchen apron was put on to cover all but the edges of skirts as white as the white dress, and with shoes and stockings off, basket and hoe in hand, she stood ready almost before her mother had accomplished fastening up old Crab to her satisfaction. Mrs. Derrick on her part prepared herself as carefully for work (though not quite so evidently for play) and the two went down to the flats. The tide was far out,—even the usual strips of water were narrow and far apart. Wherever they could, the little shell-fish scrambled about and fought their miniature battles in one-inch water; but at the edge of the tall shore-grass there was no water at all, unless in the mud, and the shell-fish waited, by hundreds, for the tide. Here was the scene of action for the two ladies. Walking daintily over the warm mud with their bare feet, which however white and twinkling at first were soon obliged to yield to circumstances; disturbing the little shell-fish—who in turn disturbed them, by very titillating little attacks upon the aforesaid feet,—Mrs. Derrick and Faith marched up to the edge of the grass and there sought for clam holes. The war went on after this fashion. A clam hole being found, the hoe was struck far down into the mud to unearth the inhabitant; which the clam resenting, spit up into the intruder's face. But the intruder—proof against such small fire—repeated the strokes, and the clam was soon brought to light and tumbled ignominiously into the basket,—to be followed every second or two by another of his companions; for the clam holes were many. The basket was soon full, but not before the cool ripple of the tide had passed the muscle rocks and was fast coming in-shore.

"Well I do think play's hard work!" said Mrs. Derrick, bringing herself once more to an erect position—"I told Dr. Harrison so this morning. How you and Mr. Linden stand it, Faith, I don't know."

"What, mother?" said Faith, making a descent upon another promising clam shell. But Mrs. Derrick always preferred to go on with her remarks.

"It's good he's doing it, for his own sake, I guess," she said,—"he's done nothing but work ever since he came to Pattaquasset."

"Doing what, mother?" said Faith. "What are you talking of?"

"Why I'm talking of you, child!" said her mother,—"you and Mr. Linden. One of you played all the morning and the other's going to play all the afternoon. But I think you've done enough, Faith—it won't do to get sick so long as we've nobody but Dr. Harrison to depend on. I don't believe he's much of a doctor."

"Played all the morning?" said Faith taking up her basket,—"it was better than play to me. I wish I could do something for him, mother!"