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Shawn took off his shoes, and bare-footed, with trousers rolled to his knees, began the hunt for mussels around the bar, as Burney threw out the drag-hooks in deeper water. Burney was drifting slowly down the stream and Shawn could see him bringing up the hooks and putting the mussels inside the boat. Shawn found them plentiful around the edge of the bar, and when Burney came back they had the boat well filled.
"Now, Shawn, we're goin' over to the shore and I am goin' to give you a feast." Burney made a wood fire, and after taking the mussels from the shell, put them in the stew-pan and let them boil for a short time, then putting them on the broiler, he held them over the live wood coals. "Squeeze a little of that lemon juice over them, Shawn, and season 'em up--now try one." Shawn took one of them and nibbled it gingerly around the edges.
"What do you think of 'em?"
"Did you ever drink out of a cow-track, Mr. Burney?"
"No. Why?"
"Well, you never missed much," said Shawn.
They rowed down to the shanty-boat and Burney built a big fire on the shore. He got out his big kettle and said, "We're goin' to boil these out and look for a pearl."
Under the roaring fire the kettle began to sing. Shawn watched Burney as he filled the big pot with mussels. "You've got to boil them until the meat comes away from the shell and is boiled all to smithereens, before you've a chance to git a pearl."
It was late afternoon before the kettle was taken off. Burney began to drain off the water and take out the shells. All of the substance in the bottom of the kettle was subjected to a careful inspection as he drew it forth.
Suddenly Burney held his hand up toward the sun and exclaimed, "Come here, quick, Shawn, I've found one--I don't know how good, but it's a pearl!" He rubbed it between his hands and wiped it off carefully on his sleeve. "That tiny pink spot on the side of it is a blemish that will never come out, but I think it is a pearl of some value. I'm goin' to give it to you; maybe you can sell it or give it to some girl some day--leastwise, Shawn, we'll put in the spare time boilin' down a few more of 'em."
Shawn took the pearl, his cheeks were aglow under the stress of the find. "Oh, Mr. Burney, I'll keep it always for a luck stone."
Shawn was clearing away the supper dishes. Burney tilted his hickory chair against the wall and puffed at his short pipe. Coaly was asleep in the corner. "Shawn, when you git through I want you to read me some more out of your Testament--I'm gittin' to like it."
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