They were doing a modified frug, a dance Ruth had learned—and abandoned—in high school.

a winning formula, strategy, etc.

So this morning we pulled up a pumpkin-pancake recipe on the kitchen laptop. Just one problem: My wife couldn't read it from where she was mixing. Can't you make it bigger? she asked. (Go ahead, insert your own that's what she said joke here. No class.)

My hopes wa'n't disappointed. I never saw clams thicker than they was along them inshore flats. I filled my dreener in no time, and then it come to me that 'twouldn't be a bad idee to get a lot more, take 'em with me to Wellmouth, and peddle 'em out. Clams was fairly scarce over that side of the bay and ought to fetch a fair price.