by the fish-nets, and do a little angling," further promised the Tarheel.
A shout of approval greeted the suggestion.
"Might hook a reed bird or two," added Turner.
"Reed bird!" echoed Jimmy.
"Sure, that's what we call red herring down home."
The lads were all eyes, ears and expectation; and, with full-grown appetites, trudged on with their leader back towards Seagulls' Nest.
"Hope there's more game in the ocean than there is outside," remarked Jimmy, looking down the deserted beach when the three were crossing the sand hills. "Gosh! I'd like to hunt and fish up in the Arctic where the water and the shore swarms with polar bears and sea-birds and the seals and penguins. Remember those polar travelogues, Cat! What got my eye was the way those penguins flopped along just like this. Look! Darn if they didn't have the Charlie Chaplin shuffle to a finish."
At this point, Jimmy paused to give a piece of mimicry that drew a roar from Cat and a chuckle from Turner.
