This was the spontaneous way in which the Chincoteague people welcomed me.
Wrecks came ashore on the submerged shoal of Chincoteague, but there were now no wreckers to labor for salvage.
The moonlight scarcely fretted the soft expanse of Chincoteague Bay.
The celebrated oyster-beds of the people of Chincoteague commence about twenty miles south of the Hommack.
This loft over a former groggery is no place for you: the news will spread from Chincoteague to Arlington.
