fiddlers."

Fiddler crabs, you know, aren't pleasant things to be dangling
around one's bare feet, and they are more numerous than sand
fleas down at Henderson's Point.

"True," assented the fisherman; "then we shall have to wade
back."

The fishing was over when they rounded the point and came in
sight of the cheery bonfire with its Rembrandt-like group, and
the air was savoury with the smell of frying fish and crabs. The
fisherman was not to be tempted by appeals to stay, but smilingly
disappeared down the sands, the red glare of his torch making a
glowing track in the water.

"Ah, Mees Annette," whispered Natalie, between mouthfuls of a
rich croaker, "you have found a beau in the water."

"And the fisherman of the Pass, too," laughed her cousin Ida.

Annette tossed her head, for Philip had growled audibly.

"Do you know, Philip," cried Annette a few days after, rudely
shaking him from his siesta on the gallery,-- "do you know that I
have found my fisherman's hut?"

"Hum," was the only response.

"Yes, and it's the quaintest, most delightful spot imaginable.