oyster-catching, they have another 'trade' whose scene is on the waters,
though it connects itself with the sea, rather than the sounds, and
_this_ is 'wrecking.' They are prompt for this service whenever the
occasion requires; indeed, I sometimes think they prefer it, dangerous
though it be, before all others. Inured as they are to every sort of
exposure, they are of course a tough and rugged race; and what with
their diversity of occupation, calling, as it does, for a constant
interchange of the use of the gun, net, boat, fishing line, and some one
or other arm or edge tool, they are usually, nay, almost invariably,
handy and quick-witted.

By far the most notable 'soundser' our neighborhood ever bred was my
hero, BILL. Physically, at least, he was a true wonder. He stood full
six feet two, weighed eleven score pounds, and at the same time carried
no more flesh than sufficed to hide the exact outline of his bones.
Another man so strong as he I have never seen. I have repeatedly known
him to lift and walk off with anchors weighing five and six hundred
weight; and those big, thick hands of his could twist any horseshoe as
if it were a girl's wreath. Certainly he was not in the least graceful;
that 'ponderosity' of his could in no way be repressed. But he was still
of rude comeliness, his shape being squarely fitted and tolerably
proportioned, while his broad, red-maned visage wore a constant glow of
plain, though sincere, kindliness and good-humor.

As his physical man was uncommon, so he had uncommon mental endowments.
He was the only 'soundser' I ever knew who understood farming. He had
inherited a farmstead of some twenty-five or thirty acres, and this he
soon had blooming as the rose. When occasion required, he wrought on
it, day and night. He divided it, with truest judgment, into proper
fields, experimented successfully with various kinds of novel manures