day - an' he's stung up good."
-
"What'll sting him?" said Harvey, getting interested.

"Strawberries, mostly. Punkins, sometimes, an' sometimes lemons
an' cucumbers. Yes, he's stung up from his elbows down. That man's
luck's perfectly paralysin'. Naow we'll take a-holt o' the tackles
an' h'ist 'em in. Is it true, what you told me jest now, that you
never done a hand's turn o' work in all your born life? Must feel
kinder awful, don't it?"

"I'm going to try to work, anyway," Harvey replied stoutly. "Only
it's all dead new."

"Lay a-holt o' that tackle, then. Behind ye!"

Harvey grabbed at a rope and long iron hook dangling from one of
the stays of the mainmast, while Dan pulled down another that ran
from something he called a "topping-lift," as Manuel drew
alongside in his loaded dory. The Portuguese smiled a brilliant
smile that Harvey learned to know well later, and a short-handled
fork began to throw fish into the pen on deck. "Two hundred and
thirty-one," he shouted.

"Give him the hook," said Dan, and Harvey ran it into Manuel's
hands. He slipped it through a loop of rope at the dory's bow,
caught Dan's tackle, hooked it to the stern-becket, and clambered
into the schooner.

"Pull!" shouted Dan; and Harvey pulled, astonished to find how