Henry C. Rowland,
The Popular Magazine, Volume 51…
(1919)
“ I declare, dad, I'm jes' like runnin' into the Bay o' Fundy; gettin' thicker and thicker every minute. Of co'se. A lobster pot{bar|2}}” “There, you guessed right the very first time, Luce,” said Timothy dryly. “That would be my scheme. A lobster pot on a sunken ledge about ten miles aout. A lobster pot with a nice bright red buoy, the third o' the line, maybe, and not too near the aidge of the sunken reef. A nice fat roll of three figgers each in a preserve jar crammed in the way the lobster goes, and there you are. Safe, simple and easy ”
