every thing that comes ashore belongs to them. Why, I've heard some of
our old fishermen--best kind of men too--talk of how Government has
robbed them of their rights."

"By the new system?" said Annie.

"Well, first by having wrecks prevented, and then by having all property
kept for the owners."

"Isn't that strange! Did you say they were good men?"

"Some of 'em. Honest as the day is long about every thing else. But they
weren't all so. There was old Peter, now, and he lives on the island
yet. There's his cabin. You can just see it sticking out of the edge of
that big sand-hill."

"What a queer thing it is!"

"Queer? I guess you'd say so, if you could have a look at the things
he's picked up along shore, and stowed inside of it. There isn't but
just room for him to cook and sleep in."

"Is he a fisherman too?"

"Why, that's his trade. Sometimes the storms drift the sand high all
over that cabin, and old Pete has to dig it out again. He gets snowed
under two or three times every winter."

Annie Foster, and probably some of the others, were getting new ideas
concerning the sea-coast and its inhabitants, every minute; and she felt