THE FATAL MARRIAGE OF BILL THE SOUNDSER.


Reader, possibly you do not know what a 'Soundser' is. Then I will tell
you. In the coastwise part of the State of New Jersey in which I live,
numerous sounds and creeks everywhere divide and intersect the low,
sea-skirting lands, wherein certain people are wont to cruise and delve
for the sake of securing their products, and hence come to be known in
our homely style as Soundsers. The fruitage afforded by these sounds is
both manifold and of price. Throughout all the pleasant weather, they
yield, with but little intermission, that gastronomic gem, the terrapin;
the succulent, hard-shell clam, and the 'soft' crab; the deep-lurking,
snowy-fleshed hake, or king-fish; the huge, bell-voiced drum, and that
sheen-banded pride of American salt-water fishes, the sheepshead. During
the waning weeks of May, and also with the continuance of dog-days, this
already profuse bounty receives a goodly accession in the shape of vast
flocks of willets, curlews, gray-backs, and other marine birds, which,
with every ebb tide, resort to their shoaler bars and flats, to take on
those layers of fat which the similarly well-conditioned old gentleman
of the city finds so inexpressibly delicious. When the summer is once,
over, and while the cold weather prevails, they furnish another and
quite new set of dainties. Then the span-long, ripe, 'salt' oyster is to
be had for the raking of their more solidly-bottomed basins; and all
along their more retired nooks and harbors, the gunner, by taking proper
precautions, may bring to bag the somewhat 'sedgy' but still
well-flavored black duck, the tender widgeon, the buttery little
bufflehead, the incomparable canvas-back, and the loud-shrieking,
sharp-eyed wild goose. All this various booty is industriously secured
by the 'soundsers,' to find, ere long, a ready market in the larger
inland towns and cities. But united to this shooting, fishing, and