Reader, possibly you do not know what a ‘Soundser’ is.  Then I will tell you.  In the coastwise part of the State of New Jersey in which I live, numerous sounds and creeks everywhere divide and intersect the low, sea-skirting lands, wherein certain people are wont to cruise and delve for the sake of securing their products, and hence come to be known in our homely style as Soundsers.  The fruitage afforded by these sounds is both manifold and of price.  Throughout all the pleasant weather, they yield, with but little intermission, that gastronomic gem, the terrapin; the succulent, hard-shell clam, and the ‘soft’ crab; the deep-lurking, snowy-fleshed hake, or king-fish; the huge, bell-voiced drum, and that sheen-banded pride of American salt-water fishes, the sheepshead.  During the waning weeks of May, and also with the continuance of dog-days, this already profuse bounty receives a goodly accession in the shape of vast flocks of willets, curlews, gray-backs, and other marine birds, which, with every ebb tide, resort to their shoaler bars and flats, to take on those layers of fat which the similarly well-conditioned old gentleman of the city finds so inexpressibly delicious.  When the summer is once, over, and while the cold weather prevails, they furnish another and quite new set of dainties.  Then the span-long, ripe, ‘salt’ oyster is to be had for the raking of their more solidly-bottomed basins; and all along their more retired nooks and harbors, the gunner, by taking proper precautions, may bring to bag the somewhat ‘sedgy’ but still well-flavored black duck, the tender widgeon, the buttery little bufflehead, the incomparable canvas-back, and the loud-shrieking, sharp-eyed wild goose.  All this various booty is industriously secured by the ‘soundsers,’ to find, ere long, a ready market in the larger inland towns and cities.  But united to this shooting, fishing, and oyster-catching, they have another ‘trade’ whose scene is on the waters, though it connects itself with the sea, rather than the sounds, and this is ‘wrecking.’  They are prompt for this service whenever the occasion requires; indeed, I sometimes think they prefer it, dangerous though it be, before all others.  Inured as they are to every sort of exposure, they are of course a tough and rugged race; and what with their diversity of occupation, calling, as it does, for a constant interchange of the use of the gun, net, boat, fishing line, and some one or other arm or edge tool, they are usually, nay, almost invariably, handy and quick-witted.

By far the most notable ‘soundser’ our neighborhood ever bred was my hero, BILL.  Physically, at least, he was a true wonder.  He stood full six feet two, weighed eleven score pounds, and at the same time carried no more flesh than sufficed to hide the exact outline of his bones.  Another man so strong as he I have never seen.  I have repeatedly known him to lift and walk off with anchors weighing five and six hundred weight; and those big, thick hands of his could twist any horseshoe as if it were a girl’s wreath.  Certainly he was not in the least graceful; that ‘ponderosity’ of his could in no way be repressed.  But he was still of rude comeliness, his shape being squarely fitted and tolerably proportioned, while his broad, red-maned visage wore a constant glow of plain, though sincere, kindliness and good-humor.