It seemed to the art collector from New York that he had tramped over every inch of the craggy Maine peninsula called Prout's Neck, but he could not find a trace of the famous resident he was looking for. Finally he spotted an old fisherman in rubber boots and battered hat. "I say. my man," he called, "if you tell me where I can find Winslow Homer. I have a quarter for you." "Where's your quarter?" snapped the old fisherman, and the stranger quickly handed one over. The fisherman took it, carefully dropped it into his pocket, and without so much...
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