He breathe
up tru dat, and suck in his drink like sherry-cobbler through a straw.
Whar dere is no little air holes, dere is no clam, dat are a fac. Now,
Massa, can you tell who is de most knowin' clam-digger in de worl? De
gull is, Massa; and he eat his clam raw, as some folks who don't know
nuffin' bout cookin' eat oysters. He take up de clam ebber so far in
de air, and let him fall right on de rock, which break shell for him,
and down he goes and pounces on him like a duck on a June bug.
Sometimes clam catch him by de toe though, and hold on like grim death
to a dead niggar, and away goes bird screamin' and yellin', and clam
sticking to him like burr to a hosses tail. Oh, geehillikin, what fun
it is. And all de oder gulls larf at him like any ting; dat comes o'
seezin' him by de mout instead ob de scruff ob de neck.
"Well, when you git clam nuff, den you must wash 'em, and dat is more
trouble dan dey is worth; for dey is werry gritty naturally, like
buckwheat dat is trashed in de field--takes two or tree waters, and
salt is better dan fresh, cause you see fresh water make him sick.
Well, now, Massa, de question is, what will you ab; clam soup, clam
sweetbread, clam pie, clam fritter, or bake clam?"
"Which do you tink best, Sorrow?" sais I.
"Well, Massa, dey is all good in dere way; missus used to fection
baked clams mighty well, but we can't do dem so tip-top at sea; clam
sweetbread, she said, was better den what is made ob oyster; and as to
clam soup, dat pends on de cook.
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