Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1915-10-31
THE CLAM-DIGGER.

IN Looted against the wall of soft
Tx fog. which. entirely shutting back
- the world of sea, leaves the long.
low line of"river flats family visible, a
single outline appears. Vivid and sure
with the fullness of meaning, it is as
though the Creator had drawn first
line in the great, moist substance of
the morning
One can scarcely discern whether it
is that of a natural object:
As huge stone b sometimes seen to lie
Cogehed on the baid top of an elninences
wonder 20 all who do the same espy
BY What means 1t could thither come and
so that it seems thing endowed with sense,
or whether it is the gaunt outline of
some creature from the brute world
suddenly emerged from the gloom,
Like beast crawled forth that on a shelf
vi rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself
1t may be either: in the straneeness
or the early hour that precludes all
thought Of the world of everyday af-
fairs. and under the impenetrabIe fog
that eliminates all sight of the hori-
zon with its latent sense of worlds be-
yond, anything seems possible What
one most strongly feels is a mental ex-
hilaration. an imaginative glow at
being face to face with an incident of
primitive character
Gradually one becomes aware that it
is the formS of clam-digger, bending
over his lowly task. and a further sat
lstactlon creeps over one at the
thought that one is able to share in
that large faith by which Wordsworth
saw in such humble workers race of
elemental beings who move like voice.
less shapes between the: natural and
spiritual world, by their very, humility
ana simplicity linking us with the life
OF those unseen inanimate forces from
which We draw our strength
The clam digger takes on heroic size
he merges into the race of Titans, our
myth brothers. who often call to us
through various mediums. He might
be Atlas, whose cloudy burden of the
heavens has eased for a moment while
he is looking down in search of some
earth or sea treasure which may have
rolled glittering to his feet-a bright
bride for his far daughters the
Pleaides, by which he hopes to coax
them from their shining orbit with
Kisses born OF the cool. golden region
of the sky.
But Invested of his Iris fold of myth,
the clam-digger stands clothed in un-
picturesque real attire: a black shirt.
stained and rusty from long use, frayed
and faded trousers. rolled up above the
knees: an old paper advertisement cap
on his head. scrawny, half -bea rded
face. and barred legs sunk deep IN the
river oozes. He is a sfngularly sordid
object, and for one who has had so
I'll Of 70
the bosom of nature seems to have
taken on little of her inheritance.
~
The bridge that runs from the shore
to the sandy peninsula is his dividing
line; he may not visit the river mouth.
for there the people. in that blind in
stinct to do the easiest If they can act
unnoticed. fling their waste at low tide
to be carried away at the turning of
the current.
SO he goes up the river, where the
banks are green and the water pure.
and here he wanders pleasantly until
from certain hilly indications in the
surface of the smooth river fats he
discovers the abiding place of the
colonies he seeks.
Plying hts short rake, he stirs the
mud into a sort of shambles and with
his hands gathers the Shiny, glistening,
gray-shelled CLAIMS into cool basket
fuls. Then. staggering under the load.
he comes into the range of reality.
All the moist beauty of the early
morning drips away from him and
leaves him only the commercial fellow
that he is. His mantle Of primitive
man is fallen. no myth haloes him. He
is the clam-digger come too near. No
longer a
vender of his wares.
But tomorrow. in the early morning.
far out the shining river flats, he
will become again the great outlined
form of an elemental being. For the
power of faith persists that compels
one to link the common to the divine.
1t lies couchant in the mind ready to
break the lock of everydayness, to
spring out at the given time and free
one from the prisons one builds.
A.W.