I expect Mr.
Ferrars hates Seal Cove nearly as much as he did the Nantucket whaler." "No, he does not," Jervis broke in.

"Sometimes of course Seal Cove smells rather strongly of fish oil, warm blubber, and putrid seal meat; but, taken as a whole, there are many worse places to live in.

I found a bank gorgeous with anemones in blue and red yesterday, and that within ten minutes' walk of the fish shed." "I know it," said Katherine.

"That bank is always a beautiful sight; but wait until you have seen the rhododendrons on the long portage." "Where is that--at Astor M'Kree's ?" asked the young man, whose time was too much occupied to admit of much exploration of the neighbourhood.
"No, four miles farther up the river, and the portage is a mile and a half long.

Phil and I call it the backache portage," replied Katherine.
"Why, do you deliver goods so far out?
With no competition to be afraid of, I should have thought you might have made your customers come to buy from you," he said, frowning, for he knew very well what kind of work was involved in a portage, and it did not seem to him a fit and proper employment for a girl.
"But there is competition," laughed Katherine.