fishiest of all fishy places was the try pots, which well deserved its name; for the pots there were always boiling chowders. chowder for breakfast, and chowder for dinner, and chowder for supper, till you began to look for fish-bones coming through your clothes. the area before the house was paved with clam-shells. mrs. hussey wore a polished necklace of codfish vertebra; and hosea hussey had his account books bound in superior old shark-skin. there was a fishy flavor to the milk, too, which i could not at all account for, till one morning happening to take a stroll along the beach among some fishermen’s boats, i saw hosea’s brindled cow feeding on fish remnants, and marching along the sand with each foot in a cod’s decapitated head, looking very slip-shod, i assure ye.